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THE RED CROSS GIRLS WITH 
THE ITALIAN ARMY 


BOOKS BY MARGARET VANDERCOOK 

THE RANCH GIRLS SERIES 

The Ranch Girls at Rainbow Lodge 
The Ranch Girls^ Pot op Gold 
The Ranch Girls at Boarding School 
The^ Ranch Girls in Europe 
The Ranch Girls at Home Again 
The Ranch Girls and their Great Ad- 
venture 

THE RED CROSS GIRLS SERIES 

The Red Cross Girls in the British 
Trenches 

The Red Cross Girls on the French 
Firing Line 

The Red Cross Girls in Belgium 
The Red Cross Girls with the Russian 
Army 

The Red Cross Girls with the Italian 
Army 

The Red Cross Girls Under the Stars 
AND Stripes 

STORIES ABOUT CAMP FIRE GIRLS 

The Camp Fire Girls at Sunrise Hill 
The Camp Fire Girls Amid the Snows 
The Camp Fire Girls in the Outside 
World 

The Camp Fire Girls Across the Sea 
The Camp Fire Girls^ Careers 
The Camp Fire Girls in After Years 
The Camp Fire Girls in the Desert 
The Camp Fire Girls at the End of the 
Trail 



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Lifting Sonya’s Hand He Bent His Head 
Kissed It 


AND 



The Red Cross Girls 
With the Italian Army 


0 

MARGARET VANDERCOOK 

A ^ 


Author of ** The Ranch GirU Series,^ ** Stories 
about Camp Fire GirU Series,** etc* 


Ulludtrate^ 


The John C Winston Company 

Philadelphia 




Copyright, 1917, by 
The John C. Winston Co. 


MAY 18 1918 


©CI,A499028 
'Tvo.f , 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER page 

L The New Day 7 

II. The Night 22 

III. Italia 34 

IV. Villa Felice 53 

V. Bianca 70 

VI. Guests at Sonya’s Villa 84 

VIL The Italian Singer 110 

VIII. A New Patient 122 

IX. An Odd Household 132 

X. A Conversation 145 

XI. The Same Afternoon 159 

XII. A Lack of Caution 173 

XIII. Dangerous Popularity 184 

XIV. Uncertainty 194 

XV. Whispers in the Air 204 

XVI. Sonya’s Knight 215 

XVII. The Culprit 228 

XVIII. Nannina Solves the Problem 241 

XIX. The Sign of the Cross I 250 


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THE RED CROSS GIRLS WITH 
THE ITALIAN ARMY 


CHAPTER I 
The New Day 

TOW strange to be returning to 
I "T Europe, and so soon, Nona, 
^ when I had thought never to 
cross the ocean again ! ” 

One afternoon in late February, a woman 
and a girl were walking slowly up and down 
the deck of a ship. Yet if either of them 
felt the anxiety, which was natural under 
the conditions of traveling by sea then, 
neither betrayed the fact. Perchance the 
day was so wonderful they had caught a 
measure of its inspiration. For sailing 
from New York City a little more than two 
weeks before under a cloud of rain and mist 
they had now reached the eternal blue of 
the Mediterranean water and sky. 

( 7 ) 


8 


With the Italian Army 


Ah, but, Sonya, these are days when one 
never knows from one hour to the next 
what may be taking place in the world, nor 
how the changes may affect one’s own life. 
Still, a year does not seem such a short 
time to me!” 

The older of the two companions laughed 

‘^That is because you are so young, 
Nona. As for me, I am ashamed to con- 
fess how quickly a year flies. But never 
has there been sp glorious a year as this, 
with Russia — my own country — free at 
last.” 

Sonya Valesky stopped for a moment 
and, although making no outward movement 
with her hands, in her heart she registered 
the ‘‘Sign of the Cross.” 

^Some time before she had been exiled 
from Russia for preaching peace when 
Russia was in the throes of the most terrible 
phase of the great war. 

Then, with three of the four American 
Red Cross Girls, who had been nursing the 
Russian wounded, she had left her own land 
for England and France, and later the 
United States. But all her life Sonya’s work 


The New Day 


9 


and prayers had been devoted toward the 
creation of a free Russia; and now, within 
the past few weeks, she, too, had been a wit- 
ness of the great mystery of good which has 
been so strangely born out of the evil of 
this present war. For Russia, in the most 
wonderful revolution in history, had lately 
declared herself a republic, so that Sonya’s 
<lream at last was realized. 

‘‘I wish we were returning to Russia, 
Nona, instead of Italy,” she added, with a 
wistful inflection in her modulated voice. 
For, in spite of speaking English perfectly, 
Sonya had a slight foreign accent. ‘‘I 
would not preach peace in Russia these 
days — not until other people are free as we 
are. I too have learned a lesson. But 
why, Nona, are we going to Italy? I 
scarcely know. It seems to me that I have 
fallen under your influence a great deal 
recently when, as I am old enough to be 
your elder sister, the influence ought to be 
the other way around.” 

Before replying, Nona Davis slipped her 
arm through her friend’s and drew her over 
to the ship’s railing, where they stood look- 
ing out over the tranquil face of the waters. 


10 


With the Italian Army 


‘‘We are going to Italy, Sonya, because 
Italy is - the country where I now most 
wish to help with Red Cross nursing. In 
spite of your insisting that you cannot 
nurse, you will probably be just as useful 
in some other way. You remember we 
first met you on shipboard when Eugenia, 
Barbara, Mildred Thornton and I were 
crossing the Atlantic to begin our first 
nursing with the British Army; then later 
in France and Belgium and in Russia. 
Well, as Eugenia married her little French 
captain and is now Madame Castaigne, at 
present she has charge of one of the largest 
field hospitals in France, and Mildred 
Thornton is with her. Poor Mildred has 
never yet been able to marry General 
Alexis, and her family is not willing she 
should, with Russia so far away, until this 
war is over. But, as Mildred was so rest- 
less at home, she crossed over again to 
join Eugenia and go on with the nursing in 
France at about the time you and I went 
south to our old place in Charleston. Since 
Barbara and Dick Thornton have a very 
new son, of course Barbara is occupied 


The New Day 


11 


with another kind of nursing now I am the 
only one of the original four Red Cross 
girls left to Mo a bit’ for Italy. Certainly 
you would not allow me to cross all alone, 
nor would I leave you to go on dreaming in 
dear old ‘before the war’ Charleston. 
These days, Sonya, it is ‘New Dreams for 
Old,’ to quote that lovely poem: 

‘Is there no voice in the world to come crying, 

New dreams for old! 

New for old 

Many have long in my heart been lying 

Faded, weary and cold.’ ” 


Nona paused. She^'^was a fair, slender 
girl with a wealth of pale blonde hair which 
the soft southern winds were now blowing 
about her face. She was wearing a loose 
coat of an odd shade of green with a broad 
collar of tan silk, and a small green hat, 
which by contrast showed brighter the 
gold of her hair. 

Her friend and companion looked older, 
since her hair was almost white. The 
one-time Russian noblewoman had extraor- 
dinary deep, dark-blue eyes with dark 


12 


With the Italian Army 


brows and lashes, skin of a strange Russian 
pallor, and a beautiful mobile mouth, more 
able to express emotion than most persons. 

At this instant she smiled rather teas- 
ingly upon the younger girl. 

‘‘Oh, Nona, of course I understand that 
I must wake up again and find some new 
work. I suppose I have grown idle; and 
yet life has been so difficult for me for so 
many years that I feel glad to have been 
able to rest. Nevertheless I think I have 
been pretty well occupied in looking after 
you in Charleston and trying to prevent 
your marrying any one of those nice south- 
ern boyhood friends of yours. What an 
extraordinary number of boys you must 
have known when you were a little girl, 
Nona. You could not have played with 
boys exclusively, and besides you always 
told me you led a remarkably lonely life 
as a child. Yet each young fellow I met 
insisted I was to trust you with him, since 
you had played together as children. That 
is one of the real reasons why I came away 
with you; I want to keep you to myself a 
little while longer, and you know you have 


The New Day 


13 


promised me not to consider an Italian. 
I do not wish the American Red Cross 
girls to make so many international mar- 
riages; Eugenia and Mildred are quite 
enough.” 

Nona laughed, nevertheless she flushed 
slightly. 

‘‘I don’t think you should talk in so 
frivolous a fashion, Sonya, when we are 
going to Italy on such a serious mission. 
Besides, it was nonsense to pay any atten- 
tion to my few old friendships In Charles- 
ton. You need not worry over me. You 
see, I am not so attractive as the other Red 
Cross girls. It is simply that you don’t 
understand American society and the free- 
dom to which American girls are accus- 
tomed.” 

Nona turned so as to face her companion. 

‘^I do wish, Sonya, you would not be so 
difficult about the young Italian fellow on 
board ship with us — Carlo Navara — hasn’t 
he a charming name.? He is a very boyish 
fellow, yet as soon as I begin to talk to 
him you manage to send word that you 
wish to see me. I am not used to such 


14 


With theTtalian Army 


a very severe chaperon, Sonya. You see, 
Eugenia had to divide her attention be- 
tween three of us. Besides, don^t you 
think Signor Navara^s story delightfully 
romantic. I told you he had confided to 
me that he came to the United States when 
he was only a tiny boy and used to sing in 
the streets. Then, one day some one over- 
heard him and began giving him lessons. 
He hopes to become a great artist some day, 
if he is not killed in Italy. Yet he felt it 
his duty to give up his career and return 
to fight for his country. I don’t understand 
your prejudice, Sonya; his seems to me a 
charming story.” 

Sonya shrugged her shoulders, which was 
a frequent gesture with her, and char- 
acteristic of her foreign birth. 

‘‘Charming, but not original, Nona! Yet, 
let us not quarrel about your first Italian 
hero. The young fellow is simply not a 
gentleman, which means I feel one could 
not trust him in a critical situation. Other- 
wise he is agreeable and very good looking. 
But one can never anticipate the future of 
a traveling acquaintance; one may not see 


The New Day 


15 


him again, or he may turn up constantly. 
Personally I rather hope, when Signor 
Navara reaches the front, we may be 
through with him.” 

The young girl looked as if she disagreed, 
but before replying glanced up and down 
the long deck. 

Until then she and Sonya had believed 
they were alone. But within the last few 
moments several other passengers had ap- 
peared. Among them was the young man 
whom they had been discussing. He wore 
a student’s hat and a military cape. 

“You are not very democratic, Sonya, 
in spite of all your views of freedom and 
democracy,” Nona expostulated. “But I 
have known a good many other persons who 
talked one way and behaved another.” 

“Just say I am not consistent,” Sonya 
laughed, “I prefer that charge.” 

But they ceased talking. Nona’s new 
acquaintance had leaned over the side of 
the ship at no great distance from where 
she and Sonya were standing. 

Unconsciously their gaze must have fol- 
lowed the direction of his. 


16 


With the Italian Army 


The water was placid and blue, with 
tiny flourishes of foam curling along the 
edges of the waves. The air blew so sweet 
that their ship must be nearing one of the- 
Italian islands and have caught the fra- 
grance of blossoming fruits. 

Then, at a distance of some hundreds of 
yards, and in the midst of the blue tran- 
quillity, a strange oily substance — not very 
large, and yet shimmering in the sunlight 
— shone on the top of the water. At the 
same time a little column of foam shot 
straight up in the air. 

The young man turned. 

In her life Nona believed she had never 
seen a face so frightened — never in any of 
the tragic experiences of her past years 
of Red Cross nursing. But the young 
singer did not look at her. He turned to 
Sonya, and something in her answering 
glance may have helped him. 

At the same instant one of the lookout 
men on the ship’s bridge must have sighted 
the same spectacle, for immediately there 
was a deep roar from one of the ship’s guns 
and then a second explosion. However,. 


The New Day 


17 


the little oily substance and the small 
upright column of water had disappeared^ 
so that the guns seemed to be firing only 
into the blue, far-off space. Before this 
moment the ship had been going rapidly 
through the quiet sea, but now her speed 
increased until she could move no faster, 
and seemed in danger from her own engines. 

Perhaps five minutes passed; probably 
only two or three; then from beneath the 
placid surface of the water a long ripple 
showed. Almost instantly there was a 
grinding, tearing noise; the great ship 
lurched forward, and her engines ceased to 
move. 

It all happened so quickly, while Nona 
and Sonya were arguing over a trifle, and 
while the greater number of the ship’s 
passengers were having an afternoon sleep. 

^‘We have been struck by a torpedo, 
haven’t we.^” Nona asked as quietly as if 
this were an ordinary question. 

Sonya nodded. 

‘‘Stay here, Nona; I’ll return in an 
instant.” 

Then Nona also heard her murmur to 

2 


18 


With the Italian Army 


the young Italian, of whom she had been 
so scornful a short time before. 

‘‘Hold on to your courage; there is no 
great danger.’’ 

Sonya disappeared among the passengers 
and crew who quickly crowded the deck. 
Almost by magic the officers and men stood 
in their appointed places while orders were 
given for the lowering of the life boats. 

Sonya was right in saying there was no 
great danger because the day was calm and 
the sea quiet. 

Moreover, there were not many pas- 
sengers, for people were not traveling 
except for urgent reasons. Besides Nona 
Davis there were three other Red Cross 
nurses; perhaps a dozen young Italians 
going home to join the colors; Nona’s 
acquaintance; several doctors and a num- 
ber of business men. 

There was one Italian woman with a 
little girl of three or four crossing to join 
her husband, who had gone to Italy before 
the beginning of the submarine danger. 

It really seemed to Nona Davis that she 
was almost too interested in what was tak- 


The New Day 


19 


Ing place to feel especially frightened; be- 
sides, it was all so brief. 

One of her American friends aboard came 
up to her. 

‘‘Don’t be frightened; I’ll look after you 
and Madame Valesky when the right mo- 
ment comes. Remember Admiral Farra- 
gut’s ‘damn the torpedo.’” 

And Nona positively had courage to 
smile! 

Dr. Latham was another one of her 
acquaintances concerning whom Sonya was 
not enthusiastic. But there was no pos- 
sible criticism of Dr. Robert Latham except 
that she did not like his brusque manners. 
For Dr. Latham was a distinguished sur- 
geon accustomed to giving orders and to 
being obeyed, and on leaving New York 
Nona had been placed under his especial 
care. But in spite of her democratic prin- 
ciples, although entirely unaware of the 
fact herself, Sonya had also been accustomed 
to rule. There had been no difficulty 
between her and Dr. Latham beyond the 
fact that they did not seem to like each 
other, and Sonya had avoided him when- 
ever it was possible. 


20 


With the Italian Army 


She came back now with the three other 
Red Cross nurses who were crossing to 
nurse under the Italian flag. 

^‘Dr. Latham, will you look after the 
young soldier?’^ she asked. ‘‘We can take 
care of ourselves, and he seems almost 
in a state of collapse. ” 

Again Nona looked toward the young 
man whom she had been defending, but 
whom she had since forgotten, while Sonya 
remembered. 

He was leaning over the ship’s rail — 
just as he had when he first came on deck — 
with his face deathly pale and his large 
dark eyes fixed on the same faraway place 
on the water. 

“I shall do nothing of the kind,” Dr. 
Latham answered abruptly. “The young 
man can look after himself. This is a case 
of artistic temperament, fine material for 
a soldier. I’ll see every woman aboard in 
the first lifeboat.” 

“I shall go last,” Sonya answered. 

But that instant an order was given by 
some officer and, before she had time to 
protest, Sonya found herself following the 


The New Day 


21 


other women into the first lifeboat, and 
being assisted down the ladder by Dr. 
Latham. 

The next instant the young Italian was 
also with them, he being the first man, by 
Dr. Latham’s aid, to leave the ship. 

When the command came to pull away 
it may have been curious, but neither Nona 
nor Sonya were alarmed. The sea was so 
calm and blue; it was still early afternoon 
and the coast of Italy could not lie very 
far away. 


CHAPTER II 


The Night 


“I will die cheering, if I needs must die; 

So shall my last breath write upon my lips 
Viva Italia! when my spirit slips 
Down the great darkness from the mountain sky; 
And those who shall behold me where I lie 
Shall murmur — ‘Look you! how his spirit dips 
From glory into glory! The eclipse 
Of death is vanquished! Lo, his victory cry.’ ” 

I T seemed strange to hear this new song 
of victory ring out over the waters of 
the Mediterranean Sea at the darkest 
hour of the night, and yet every human 
being aboard the lifeboat listened and was 
helped by it. 

It was Sonya who had persuaded the 
young Italian to sing, and his voice was very 
clear and very beautiful. 

Nona found herself listening with eyes 
half closed, as she was worn out with 
anxiety and fatigue. For, at last, all the 
( 22 ) 


The Night 


23 


other voices of fear, bitterness and repining 
were stilled. 

If, without any particular sensation of 
fear, Nona had found herself aboard a 
small boat being rowed by sailors after the 
torpedoing of their vessel the afternoon 
before, she had just been passing through 
what she believed was the longest and 
hardest night of her life. And yet she 
remembered the night when she had gone 
with the Russian army in their retreat 
across ruined villages and frozen fields. 

For the Mediterranean, which had been 
so blue and friendly at the hour of their 
accident, about sundown had changed, as 
it frequently does. 

Suddenly the sky and sea had both dark- 
ened until they were no longer blue but 
black; the sun had quickly vanished and 
afterwards a cold mist arose. 

But until this occurred the passengers in 
the lifeboat with Nona and Sonya had made 
every effort to remain cheerful. 

Nona had suggested that. In ancient days 
men and women often crossed the seas in 
galleys rowed by strong oarsmen, so why 


24 


With the Italian Army 


not pretend they were captives being 
brought to Rome under a guard of sailors? 
Actually she and Mollie Drew — one of the 
other Red Cross nurses — and one with a 
real Irish ancestry — argued the question as 
to which of them was the ‘‘Captive Prin- 
cess.’^ 

It was not that the two girls intended 
being frivolous, or that they failed to ap- 
preciate the gravity of the situation, but 
that they wished to show good courage. 
For a little later, when they had moved 
a safe distance from their ship, but 
were still near enough to watch her go 
down, Mollie collapsed and with true Irish 
suddenness hid her face In the folds of 
Sonya’s coat. 

However, the torpedoed ship did not sink 
as soon as her officers had expected. When 
she did, each man and woman who saw her 
would like to have followed Mollle’s ex- 
ample, although most of them simply 
remained silent. 

There is no more beautiful or perhaps 
tragic sight than the sinking of a great ship. 
Even at a considerable distance she could 


The Night 


25 


be seen to plunge, struggle and then right 
herself as if she were human. Then, just 
before the water closed above her, it seemed 
as if she uttered a forsaken cry. 

^‘Another misfortune ofwar,’^ Dr. Latham 
exclaimed to Nona, but in an unsteady 
voice. 

Nona made no effort to reply. 

At the last moment Dr. Latham had 
come aboard their lifeboat. There was 
one more seat to be filled and it was well to 
have a few men aboard beside the sailors. 

Nevertheless it was not Dr. Latham who 
took command, but in an unconscious 
fashion it was Sonya. 

In the past year, living with her Russian 
friend, Nona Davis had made the dis- 
covery that Sonya was now and then apt 
to be* difficult when things were going 
smoothly, but showed her real courage and 
sweetness in misfortune. 

You see, she had led so strange a life. 
When she was a little Russian girl, with a 
family of wealth and distinction, she had 
been feted and adored. The little Sonya 
was a great beauty and would one day 


26 


With the Italian Army 


inherit great wealth. Then she had gone 
away to school, where secretly she had 
come in contact with principles of life 
wholly new to her — the belief that there 
should be no Czar; that Russia should be 
free, and that all men were brothers. Then 
Sonya had read Tolstoy’s writings and had 
begun to study his principles of universal 
peace. She had traveled in many lands, 
still preaching her doctrine, and had re- 
turned to Russia during the war, only to be 
exiled to Siberia. But when her reprieve 
came through an unexpected influence, and 
Sonya returned to the United States with 
the three Red Cross girls, she seemed 
suddenly to have grown tired of all the 
sorrows and arduous work of her past life. 
After she and Nona had settled down in the 
exquisite, peaceful old southern city of 
Charleston, Sonya appeared to care only 
to rest and to read. She had money 
enough to make herself and Nona both 
comfortable in a quiet fashion. 

As a matter of fact, she had not wished 
to return to any part of the European war 
zone. Sonya was weary of tragedy and 


The Night 


27 


felt she had earned the right to a more 
placid existence. It was only Nona Davis’ 
determination to continue her Red Cross 
nursing in Italy which had finally influenced 
her friend. But, even then, Sonya had 
insisted she would do nothing but take a 
small villa in Italy, where she would be 
near enough to Nona to be of service to 
her, if necessary. 

Nevertheless, on board the lifeboat it 
was Sonya who was doing more than any 
one else to encourage her fellow travelers. 

From the first Nona’s friend — the young 
Italian, Carlo Navara, whom Sonya had 
disliked — had depended upon her in an 
almost absurd fashion. 

Dr. Latham had been right. If the 
young artist was going home to be a soldier, 
he made a poor showing in his first contact 
with danger. 

The women — except Sonya — as well as 
the men, made no effort to hide their scorn 
of him, because the moment he took his 
place along with the others he covered his 
face with his hands, shaking as though he 
were physically ill. And when the boat 


28 


With the Italian Army 


lurched he would take his hands down to 
cry out in terror. 

He had such an unfortunate effect on the 
others who were trying to be brave that 
he might have been roughly treated if 
Sonya had not been present. 

Several times Dr. Latham shouted at 
him, kindly at first. 

“See here, young fellow, don’t you know 
we are pretty fortunate.^ What’s the 
trouble with you.^ Aren’t we all in life- 
boats without the loss of a life? And isn’t 
the sea calm? This isn’t the Atlantic 
Ocean, where there might be oreason for 
alarm.” 

But this was not the kind of conversa- 
tion that ever comforts anyone, although 
there are people who believe one is happier 
in remembering that some one else is more 
wretched. Yet it seems a poor consola- 
tion always. 

At any rate. Carlo paid no attention to 
the doctor’s brusque efforts, and had it not 
been for Sonya would probably have 
gone to pieces altogether. 

Several times Nona felt sorry that she 


The Night 


29 


had ever made friends or championed the 
young Italian. But she was really almost 
asleep, with her head resting against the 
big doctor’s great shaggy coat, when Carlo 
began to sing. 

It must have been about two or three 
o’clock in the morning. For six or eight 
hours the small boat had been tossed by the 
choppy waves which had followed the sink- 
ing of the sun. There was food and water 
aboard, nevertheless by this time Nona and 
most of the other women felt too ill to 
think of touching food. Sonya and Dr. 
Latham, working together, had forced all 
of them to have a little food at midnight 
as well as at the dinner hour the night 
before. 

It was Sonya, also, who asked Mollie 
Drew to take care of the one child aboard, 
so the mother could sleep. Thus Mollie 
was kept from thinking too much about 
herself. 

Then, when everybody’s courage was 
going — and when the sailors were too weary 
to do more than keep the lifeboat afloat — 
Sonya had commanded the young Italian 
musician to see if a song would be of service. 


30 


With the Italian Army 


He had insisted that it would be useless, 
but Sonya had been determined and, as 
he had yielded to her influence before, he 
must do so again. 

Then, as he sang, his self-respect came 
back to him. 

It was a wonderful experience Nona felt 
— even in the midst of her discomfort and 
suffering. For she was stiff and aching 
from so many long hours in a cramped 
position. She was also cold and wet 
through her heavy coat and was beginning 
to believe they would never be rescued. 

“Live, thou, upon my lips, Italia mine. 

The sacred death-cry of my frozen clay! 

Let thy dear light upon my body shine 
And to the passerby this message say: 

Ecco! though heaven has made my skies divine, 
My deep love sanctifies my soul for aye.” 

More beautiful than before was the voice 
which rang out over the waters, with a 
triumphant note closing this last verse. | 

When the song ceased Nona must have 
fallen into a real sleep. 

For, when she awoke It was almost dawn. 


The Night 


31 


and it seemed to her the sea was growing 
quieter. Except for the sailors, who were 
on watch, everybody in the lifeboat ap- 
peared to be either wholly asleep or in a 
stupor. 

Nona could hear the big doctor, who sat 
beside her, making strange noises. 

Only Sonya, sitting alone and at some 
distance off, Nona found to be still awake. 

She must have been very tired, and yet 
it seemed to Nona that she had never seen 
her friend more beautiful. 

Sonya wore a long, severely plain blue 
coat, and the heavy veil which had been 
bound about her head had become un- 
loosened and was now floating backward in 
the morning mist. Out of the pallor of her 
face, her blue eyes showed with extraor- 
dinary depth of beauty and color, while her 
mouth wore an expression of infinite wist- 
fulness and sympathy. 

Yet it was Sonya and one of the sailors 
who almost at the same instant sighted a 
little Italian fishing boat. 

It had come forth early from Naples, 
risking the dangers in order to be first at 


32 


With the Italian Army 


the fishing. For food was dear in Italy, as 
elsewhere, and fish one of the things upon 
which the poor depended. 

The first pink hue had begun to show 
very faintly in the pearl of the sky, yet 
the sails of the small fishing boats were of 
a deep rose color. 

Certainly they looked rose color, indeed, 
when the little smack, hearing the signal of 
distress before she caught sight of the life- 
boat, came into view of the shipwrecked 
men and women with all her little sails 
bravely flying. 

Some hours later Nona Davis had her 
first vision of Italy, and felt almost as if 
it repaid her for what she had just passed 
through. 

The water of the bay of Naples was blue 
once more; the city a glory of color shin- 
ing by this time in the midday sun, and 
beyond lay Mount Vesuvius forming a kind 
of amethyst, brooding cloud above the city. 

Nona was standing by the tall doctor, 
who seemed in a measure to have adopted 
her in the last twelve hours, when their 
sail boat rode into the bay with its unex- 


The Night 


33 


pectedly large number of passengers. But, 
somehow, the news had preceded the boat, 
as the shore was lined with friendly, sympa- 
thetic Italian faces, with a waving of Italian 
and one or two American flags. 

Sonya had been with some other people, 
but came up at this instant to join Nona 
and the doctor. 

‘‘Remember what Goethe says, Nona 
dear, whatever befalls us, ‘He who can 
remember Naples can never more be quite 
unhappy.”^ 


CHAPTER III 


Italia ' 

T he next afternoon at four o’clock 
Sonya and Nona and the three new 
Red Cross nurses were having tea 
on the broad terrace of the Bertolini, which 
overhangs Naples. Below them lay the 
city and the bay, and in front, wrapped in 
her usual amethyst cloud, stood Vesuvius. 

Although it was only late February, 
spring was soon coming to southern Italy. 
Already the quiver of her arrows had been 
felt in the gardens and woods, as the shrubs 
and the branches of the trees were green; 
the almond and cherry buds were begin- 
ning to open; and their fragrance filled the 
air with a wonderful perfume. 

The manner in which the girls were 
drinking tea and eating strange Italian 
sweets would have suggested to no one the 
peril through which they had just passed. 
But then there was no sign of gloom or 

( 34 ) 


Italia 


35 


of war among the Italian visitors at the 
garden. There were a few soldiers wearing 
uniforms, but this would have been true 
in times of peace in Italy. 

I declare it is worth everything we have 
suffered to spend just this one afternoon in 
such an enchanted place!” Mollie Drew 
exclaimed with true Irish abandon to the 
emotion of the moment. “I never dreamed 
Italy was so lovely. In coming over here 
to nurse, one feels as if Italy would do 
more for us than we can ever do for her.” 

‘‘Open my heart and you will see graved 
inside of it, ‘Italy’,” Nona responded, 
holding her tea cup in her hand and gazing 
at the wonderful panorama about them. 

Not far off, down the slope of the terrace, 
stood a beautiful Cedar of Lebanon, its 
green branches spreading forth like a canopy 
with the deeper green tone beneath, while 
half-way up its trunk a cluster of young 
cherry trees were covered with white mists 
of blossoms. 

Sonya Valesky had not been paying 
much attention to the conversation of the 
four girls, but she now glanced toward Nona 
Davis and smiled. 


36 


With the Italian Army 


‘‘Nona, do I have to hear you quote 
poetry from the time we start for Italy 
until we return home? Because it seems to 
me you break into rhyme with almost every 
other sentence. I trust you will try Italian 
poetry upon the Italian soldiers when you 
are nursing. I wonder if you girls know 
more of the language than Nona and I do? 
We have been studying for the past few 
months, and long ago I thought I knew a 
little Italian.” 

In finding herself apparently acting as 
chaperon for four Red Cross girls instead of 
oney Sonya was surprised, and had not yet 
had an opportunity to make up her mind 
whether she were altogether pleased. At 
present, however, she appeared to have no 
choice in the matter. 

When she and Nona had finally concluded 
to come to Italy, Nona had written to 
several friends engaged in Red Cross work 
in New York City and through them had 
made their plans for the trip to Italy. At 
the time Nona was told that three or four 
other Red Cross nurses would probably be 
going over on the same steamer, and a 


I 


Italia 


37 


prominent New York physican as well, but 
there had been no meeting between any of 
them until they had found one another on 
the ship. 

But, even then, as Sonya had preferred 
to spend a good part of each day in her 
stateroom, she had left most of the friend- 
liness to Nona, and had only talked to the 
other Red Cross girls a few times, and with- 
out any suggestion of a future intimacy. 

But the night they had passed together 
in danger appeared to have altered their 
relation. 

The morning after their safe arrival in 
Naples, Mollie Drew had come into Nona’s 
and Sonya’s room, first to thank Sonya for 
her kindness the night before and also to 
apologize for what she chose to call her 
own lack of self-control Afterwards she 
said frankly: 

‘‘I don’t know whether either of you is 
interested to know anything about me, but 
if you don’t mind I’d like to have you 
know. I have just taken the nurse’s train- 
ing for the past two years in order to help 
with the war nursing. My father used to 


38 


With the Italian Army 


be an Irish politician in New York City 
and we had considerable money. But as 
he has lost most of it and married again, and 
there are a good many children in our 
family, I thought I should learn to take 
care of myself.’’ 

Mollie must have been about eighteen or 
twenty. She was not very aristocratic in 
appearance, but she was all the prettier for 
this. Indeed, she was what one is apt to 
consider a typical Irish girl. Her eyes were 
very big and gray, with thick dark lashes 
and brows, and with soft shadows under 
them. She had a wealth of bright, reddish 
hair and the delicate skin with the few 
freckles which usually accompany it. 

So far in their acquaintance Mollie had 
appeared entirely demure and sweet-tem- 
pered, but Sonya wondered if these char- 
acteristics would continue under different 
circumstances. For the present Mollie had 
taken a great fancy to her and wished to 
make a good impression. 

On board the steamer, Dolores King — 
the second of the new Red Cross girls — had 
exchanged confidences with Nona Davis. 


Italia 


39 


Dolores was from New Orleans and belonged 
to an old Creole family. So, as she and 
Nona were both southerners, a bond had 
straightway been established between them. 
Even on board the steamer they had spent 
a good deal of time together and planned 
to work together if possible, since Nona 
dreaded the loneliness without the former 
Red Cross girls. 

As a matter of fact, the two girls formed 
a really charming picture together. Nona 
Davis was as tall and delicately fair as the 
proverbial fairy princess, while Dolores 
King’s Spanish name suggested her appear- 
ance. She was a dainty little thing, very 
vivacious and daring, yet dark and vivid 
as a tropical flower. 

The third new girl — ^Agatha Burton — 
had light brown hair and eyes, a quiet 
manner, and although friendly with the 
others, so far had not considered it neces- 
sary to say much concerning herself. She 
also was a New York girl who had been 
trained in a New York City hospital. 

But it was Sonya who had allowed her 
fellow travelers to know nothing of her 


40 


With the Italian Army 


past history. In agreeing to come abroad 
with Nona Davis, whom she had adopted 
and regarded almost as a younger sister, 
Sonya had made Nona promise to keep her 
story a secret. For Sonya was weary of 
the curiosity and the interest and question- 
ing which any knowledge of her life always 
excited among strangers. Her foreign name 
was enough to make people curious, and 
Sonya still continued to be called Madame 
Valesky, although she had never married. 
She had decided that she preferred to be 
regarded merely as a society woman who 
had spent a conventional life. As she had 
sufficient money for herself and Nona to 
live upon quietly, and as her own beauty 
and rather unusual social distinction gave 
this impression, Sonya had no difficulty in 
establishing the reputation. 

‘H know Italian fairly' well and will be 
glad to be of assistance at any time,” Agatha 
Burton now replied. “I suppose we will 
travel a part of the distance to the north of 
Italy together.” 

But no one paid much attention to her 
answer, because just then Nona began to 


Italia 


41 


wave her hand and cause a mild disturbance 
among the groups of people at the tea tables, 
who were always prepared to be amused by 
American girls. 

‘‘There is Dr. Latham wandering about 
and looking like a shabby old bear among 
all these handsome Italians. Suppose I 
ask him to join us.^” 

But, without waiting for an invitation, the 
big doctor came lumbering up. 

He must have been about forty, but 
appeared much older, as his hair was gray 
and his eyebrows shaggy over his fine keen 
eyes. Since the war began he had made 
several discoveries of great importance to 
the care of the wounded and his journey 
to Italy was being made for the purpose of 
explaining his discoveries to the Italian 
medical profession. 

Now, without revealing the fact, he 
quietly observed the entire group of women 
and knew how they were feeling with one 
apparently casual glance. 

The four girls he saw had entirely re- 
covered from the night of stress through 
which they had all so recently passed. But 


42 


With the Italian Army 


the good-looking woman, whose name was 
too difficult to remember and who was not 
disposed to be pleased with him, appeared 
much the worse for wear. 

“Well, that is natural enough, as she is 
older than the others,’’ Dr. Latham con- 
cluded, while Nona and Dolores — the two 
girls for whom he had showed a decided 
liking during their crossing — made a place 
for him between them. 

However, Dr. Latham had confessed to 
himself that Sonya’s courage and self- 
possession the night of their disaster had 
amazed him, as his particular bhe noir 
was the type of idle, society women whom 
he believed she represented. 

To be idle, or to care for society at any 
time, Dr. Latham considered an evidence 
of mental weakness. But to be either of 
those things, with almost the entire world 
at war, showed a moral weakness as well. 

Yet, for some reason, which she could 
scarcely have explained to herself, Sonya 
rather enjoyed encouraging the “good doc- 
tor’s” poor opinion of her. She had asked 
Nona particularly not to undeceive him. 


Italia 


43 


If Dr. Latham had known she had spoken 
of him as the ‘‘good doctor” he would 
have liked her even less. 

“May I give you some tea.^ Did you 
ever see any place in your entire life so 
beautiful and so romantic as Naples.^ Of 
course I have to quote poetry in Italy, 
when Italy is the home of romance and 
beauty!” Nona ejaculated, not waiting for 
a reply to any of her rapid-fire questions. 

However, Dr. Latham shook his head 
over the suggestion of tea. 

“Don’t believe in stimulants, though I 
suppose tea is the best of the lot ! See here, 
Miss Nona, it is all very well for girls to 
talk about the romance of Italy, but I 
wonder how much you American girls 
know of her history? Are you familiar 
with the story of the new Italy, Madame? 

So unexpectedly did Dr. Latham now 
turn upon Sonya that she started, as she 
was scarcely listening to him. 

Why, no, I’m afraid not. But perhaps 
information is not so important to me, as 
I’ve no knowledge and no idea of doing 
Red Cross work.” 


44 


With the Italian Army 


Sonya’s tone was intentionally careless. 
She did not desire the American doctor to 
consider that he had any interest in her or 
authority over her. He might feel he 
possessed both with regard to the American 
Red Cross nurses. 

But that instant Nona frowned with evi- 
dent annoyance upon Sonya. They were 
devoted to each other, but this did not 
prevent them from having occasional quar- 
rels. Few people who live together escape 
entirely, but more particularly they do not 
when they happen to be two girls or women. 

Nona really liked and admired the cele- 
brated New York physician immensely and 
did not intend that Sonya should be rude 
to him. 

“But the rest of us are going to nurse 
and would like you to tell us something of 
recent Italian history very much indeed,” 
she insisted warmly, becoming more an- 
noyed by Sonya’s slow teasing smile. 

“You see, I have been wondering why 
one always speaks of Italy as a democracy 
when Italy has a king.” 

The big doctor grunted. 


Italia 


45 


‘‘Yes, that is true; but you’ll soon be 
finding out there are no more truly demo- 
cratic people in the world in spirit than these 
same Italians. And their king, I hear, has 
only been away from the front for two days 
since Italy’s war began. A great, little 
man, this Vittorio Emanuele III! Do you 
realize Italy is the only country in history 
that has ever had a rebirth of greatness 
and that there have been only three kings 
since the new Italy began?” 

Dr. Latham smiled good-naturedly at 
Sonya. 

“I hope I am not boring everybody too 
much, but this story of modern Italy is 
rather a passion with me. My grand- 
father fought with Garabaldi to free Italy 
from Austria in 1848 and to create a united 
country. Now I am also trying to fight in 
the way I hope to be of most value for the 
Italia Irredenta.” 

The American doctor paused as if he 
were a little embarrassed by his own 
enthusiasm. 

But before any one else could reply, 
Mollie Drew leaned over the tea table and 
said: 


46 


With the Italian Anny 


‘‘I am a very ignorant Irish person, big 
Doctor, so please do not tell on me. I have 
never had the courage to make this con- 
fession until now. But, honestly, I don’t 
know what ‘Italia Irredenta’ means, al- 
though I have been hearing the expression 
ever since Italy entered the present war.” 

Dr. Latham laughed, pleased with Mol- 
lie’s honesty. 

“Probably a good many other persons 
are in the same state. Miss Drew, but will 
not confess. Nevertheless, as we are going 
to nurse the wounded from the neighbor- 
hood of this same Italia Irredenta, we ought 
to understand. You see, when Italy was 
freed by her three great patriots — Cavour 
her political, Mazzini her spiritual, and 
Garabaldi her fighting patriot — and when 
all the little kingdoms in which Italy was 
then divided were transformed into the 
present Italy, the Italians wished the high 
border of the Alps for the natural border 
of their country. This was true before the 
time of Christ. Yet, in the last revolu- 
tion, they succeeded in securing only a 
small portion of their beautiful white chain 


Italia 


47 


of hills. Austria still controls the highest 
summits of the Alps and some of Italy’s 
oldest cities. These are the provinces on 
the Austrian frontier — the Italia Irredenta 
— ^which Italy is striving to win back. 
Italy also is fighting for peace and the future 
of civilization. There was never before 
so single a cause in all the world’s history!” 

Then the big doctor made an awkward, 
shamefaced bow. 

^^But I’m not a German professor in dis- 
guise. In future I promise to swallow all 
the information I may be able to find 
concerning Italy, or anything else, if you 
will say you forgive me for making my one 
historical lecture. In future I’ll stick to 
my own subjects.” 

Nona Davis nodded and then sighed. 

‘‘As long as the lecture is over there is 
nothing else we can do, though a ‘little 
learning is a dangerous thing,’ please re- 
member.” Then she lowered her voice a 
little. 

“But don’t talk about being a ‘German’ 
please. Doctor — even in fun — ^when we are 
in an enemy country.' I suppose, because 


48 


With the Italian Army 


I have been doing Red Cross nursing so 
long and have had so many queer experi- 
ences, I have grown to believe no one can 
be too careful. One never can guess, and 
the most unlikely person is often suspected. 
Besides, I know you will think I am only 
self-conscious, or worse, but I have had a 
sensation as if we were being watched 
pretty carefully ever since we arrived in 
Naples.’’ 

The big doctor shook himself and laughed. 

‘‘American girls are fairly apt to be 
noticed in Italy — or watched, if you like 
the word better — at all times. I don’t 
think you will be the exception. But if 
you are thinking of returning to your hotel 
I should like to see you safely there. More- 
over, I should like to speak to you alone, 
Madame.” 

He turned to Sonya and arose. 

Mystified, she got up, the four girls fol- 
lowing her example. 

It was impossible to imagine what the 
American doctor could have to tell her which 
he did not wish her companions to hear. 
She had certainly made every effort to 


Italia 


49 


discourage any possible intimacy or even 
further acquaintance between them. But 
plainly he was not easily to be discouraged 
or set aside from any purpose he might 
have in mind. Sonya was accustomed to 
having men admire her; yet she realized 
the American doctor not only did not 
admire, but even distrusted and disliked 
her. Therefore his confidence could have 
nothing to do with himself. However, she 
had to acknowledge to herself that he had 
a force that was difficult to disregard. 

Walking on ahead with Dr. Latham, she 
did not observe, although Nona Davis did, 
that two young men, who had been at one 
of the tea tables not far away, kept their 
party in sight, by following them at a 
respectful distance. 

But this was because Dr. Latham began 
on his subject without wasting any time in 
preliminaries. 

^Ht is about that young musician who 
crossed with us that I wish to speak. I 
might as well tell you, Madame Valesky, 
I may understand sick bodies, but not sick 
minds. And that is what I presume is at 


50 


With the Italian Army 


present the trouble with this young Italian. 
In any case, I had a note from him this 
morning bidding me come to him as soon 
as possible. I thought the boy might be 
ill with a sore throat or some other ailment 
from that nonsense of singing in the damp 
air of the night. But his voice seems un- 
affected, for he told me a long story. He 
seems to feel he eternally disgraced him- 
self by his cowardice and so never dares 
trust himself to become a soldier. I was 
to say a great deal to the various signoritas, 
to beg their forgiveness and their prayers 
in a hundred different ways and ask them 
to remember him kindly. Oh, stuff and 
nonsense, the end of the boy’s confidence 
was that he was planning to do away with 
himself in a fit of remorse and dread of the 
future. I told you his was a bad case of 
artistic temperament.” 

Sonya felt her head swimming a little. 
She had not liked Nona’s intimacy with 
the young Italian on board ship; neverthe- 
less, he was a strangely gifted boy and 
somehow his weakness and dependence on 
her in the night of their common danger 


Italia 


51 


had changed her feeling to one of interest. 
She seemed to hear the boy’s magical voice 
again singing so gallantly: 

“I will die cheering, if I needs must die; 

So shall my last breath write upon my lips 
Viva Italia.” 

‘‘And you left him alone, knowing that 
he might — ” 

But the gruff doctor interrupted her. 

“Yes, I left him alone, but asleep from 
a powder I gave him. Perhaps I am not 
such a brute as you think, and maybe I 
understand talented, wayward boys better 
than you dream. Also, he promised me 
not to carry out his threat until he had a 
talk with you. You suddenly appear to 
have been transformed into his Madonna 
of Rescue and of Pity,” the big doctor 
ended grimly the moment before he assisted 
Sonya into her carriage, followed by Mollie 
Drew and Dolores King. And then he 
deliberately entered the second carriage 
with Nona Davis and Agatha Burton. 

But Sonya was scarcely conscious of what 
became of him. She was fearing their new 


52 


With the Italian Army 


acquaintance would not wait to talk with 
her. Better than other people could im- 
agine she knew what it was to feel one- 
self a coward at a time when one longed to 
be a hero. 


CHAPTER IV 


Villa Felice 

S ONYA and Nona drove out of the 
Roman gate toward the hill country 
surrounding Florence. 

They had arrived in Florence only a 
week before when the four Red Cross girls 
had immediately become members of the 
staff of the American Red Cross Hospital. 

Sonya, however, had been living alone 
in a quiet pension, from whence most of the 
usual English, American and German guests 
had vanished at the entrance of Italy into 
the great war. 

But now, on Nona’s first afternoon of 
freedom, she and Sonya were on their way 
outside the city to search for a small villa 
which Sonya wished to rent for a few 
months. 

Nona leaned back in the rickety carriage. 
She looked a little pale, but her blue eyes 
were wide open and shining. 

( 53 ) 


54 


With the Italian Army 


“Italy is rather overwhelming, the more 
one sees of it, don’t you think, Sonya?” 
she demanded, gazing backward at the 
wide, clear arch of the gate through which 
they had just passed, and then at the high- 
walled lane through which their carriage 
was slowly moving. 

Sonya leaned over and took her compan- 
ion’s hand. She seemed a good deal more 
rested than the younger girl. 

“It has been a trying week for you, I 
have no doiibt, Nona, attempting to get 
settled and to begin your nursing at the 
hospital and I suppose to see as much of 
Florence as possible in your walks. That 
is why I have left you alone, and also to 
allow you to become more intimate with 
the other American nurses. I must not be 
selfish, but I rather wish you were to spend 
the next few months in idleness with me, 
instead of so hard at work. It is the coun- 
try in Italy that is so enchanting; once one 
has seen all the great pictures and churches 
one can appreciate.” 

Nona laughed. 

“I never knew any one so determined 


Villa Felice 


55 


upon idleness, Sonya. But I must con- 
fess I would not mind doing what you are 
planning, if I did not feel that Red Cross 
nursing was my duty. Besides, I have 
already missed you dreadfully this past 
week and have hundreds of questions to 
ask you ? For one thing, whatever became 
of my — of your young Italian singer.^ For 
apparently he threw me over altogether 
for you after our arrival in Naples. Did 
he decide to go back to the United States 
after his inglorious beginning as a hero.^’^ 

Sonya had been watching the landscape 
as they drove out toward the exquisite hill 
country surrounding the city of Florence, 
which is said to be like a lily in the midst 
of a garden gay with flowers. Beyond them 
were the gray olive-clad hills and nearer, 
the sloping vineyard country. Over the 
walls clambered the thin, pale-green vines 
of the roses that a little later were to make 
Italy a glory of bloom. 

Sonya frowned. 

‘‘Don’t take that superior tone, Nona. 
You have acquired it from your friend Dr. 
Latham, who may be an excellent physician, 


56 


With the Italian Army 


but whose sympathy I should never count 
upon in any disaster. You should have 
had enough experience with your nursing 
to know by this time that temporary 
cowardice means nothing, and particularly 
when one has the nervous temperament of 
an artist. Your young musician — not mine 
— is a soldier by this time, I have no doubt. 
He and I had a talk the morning before he 
left Naples., I told you he sent farewells, 
I assured him that we would be here in 
Florence for the summer — you girls at 
work, and I taking advantage of my age 
by doing nothing. He has promised to let 
me hear from him later on, but only in case 
he distinguishes himself. Poor Carlo, I 
presume vanity is another sign of the artis- 
tic temperament, but I rather fear if he 
waits for fame as a soldier we shall never 
hear of him! However, I don’t wish to 
talk of Carlo, Nona, but of my villa.” 

‘‘Your villa.?” 

Nona smiled. She was not accustomed 
to seeing her companion appear so young 
or so gay as this past week in Italy seemed 
to have made her. 


Villa Felice 


57 


‘‘I did not dream you had acquired a 
villa so soon, Sonya. I thought we were 
going only to look at one which is to let. 
What is the use of my being taken along to 
offer advice if you have already decided 
what you intend doing?’’ 

Sonya opened her pocketbook to look 
at a card. 

“But I have not acquired anything yet, 
Nona, except the name of the villa and 
of the family who appear disposed to allow 
some one else to occupy their place. I 
don’t know why, I am sure, except that 
people tell me since the war in Italy began 
all the foreigners have been running away 
to their own countries, until Italian pro- 
perty is about half its former value.” 

“Then, why this particular villa, Sonya, 
instead of another?” Nona inquired 
drowsily, not because she cared for any 
definite answer from her companion, but 
because it amused her to go on talking 
idly, when she was in a lovely state of 
relaxation from the strain of her work at 
the hospital, and happy to be again with 
Sonya. 


58 


With the Italian Army 


There is no emotion of admiration and 
affection keener than the one a young girl 
is able to feel for an older woman, provided 
the older woman has charm and a wide 
experience of the world. 

“Oh, for one reason, because I am charmed 
with the name of this villa — the Villa 
Felice, House of Happiness would be the 
English translation. I wonder if that is 
a good omen for me.^ I have not lived in 
a House of Happiness since I was a tiny 
girl and too young to realize what happi- 
ness meant.” Perhaps that is why I am 
allowing myself to be lazy for a little while, 
when I ought of course to be helping, in- 
stead of loafing in lovely Italy.” 

Nona slipped her hand inside the older 
woman’s caressingly. 

“Oh, I am not in the least sure you are 
going to be so idle as you plan, Sonya. I’d 
like to bet with you a lovely string of coral 
I saw today in a shop in the Ponte Vecchio. 
that before many weeks you will be more 
occupied with some kind of work for Italy, 
even though it is not nursing, than any of 
the rest of our party.” 


Villa Felice 


59 


Sonya shook her head. 

‘‘Don’t try to excuse me in that way. 
But I do wish I knew how much English 
the Italian woman who is caretaker at the 
Villa Felice will know. It may be difficult 
for us to come to an agreement.” 

Then, for another ten or fifteen minutes, 
neither of the two friends attempted to 
speak, except for an occasional ejaculation. 

It was a warm day of the blue and gold 
of Italy. 

By and by the ancient cabman, who wore 
a top hat that looked as if it were used as 
a footstool or a trash basket when it was 
not serving as a hat, and a long blue coat 
down to his heels, turned from the long 
white lane through which he had been 
driving and entered a white stone gate. 

Rising on a row of terraces in front of 
them, Nona and Sonya could see the gray 
turrets of the villa which had been described 
as the Villa Felice. 

It was not a large house, but its size was 
what had particularly commended it to 
Sonya. 

She and Nona got out of their cab, ask- 


60 


With the Italian Army 


ing the driver to wait for them, and walked 
up the white path to the house. 

The little villa had rather a pathetic, 
mysterious air, as if it had been deserted 
without understanding the cause. 

In the nearby garden there were small 
clumps of cypress trees and tall vases of 
beautiful Italian pottery — the Signa pot- 
tery — in which were growing small orange 
and lemon trees. 

Sonya and Nona stood for a moment in 
silence on the piazza, almost as if they were 
listening for some unexpected noise. Then 
Sonya raised the knocker and, letting it 
fall again, the sound made both of them 
involuntarily jump. It was almost as if 
the noise echoed through an empty house. 

Sonya knew almost nothing in regard to 
the place she had come to see with the idea 
of renting it. A woman in the pension 
where she was boarding in Florence had 
recommended the villa to her. It had been 
the property of an acquaintance of hers, 
who had died just before the outbreak of 
the war. Later Sonya had seen the agent, 
who explained that the house was in charge 


Villa Felice 


61 


of a caretaker, and made an appointment 
for her visit. 

Therefore, as a matter of fact, the house 
could not be so deserted as it appeared. 

Moreover, the moment after her knock- 
ing, Sonya, and of course Nona, heard the 
reverberation of footsteps along the hall. 

Sonya had been told that the caretaker 
was a woman — an old servant who had 
lived for many years with the former mis- 
tress — but the footsteps sounded as if they 
belonged to a man. 

Both the newcomers felt a little nervous. 
Italy was an unknown country to both of 
them, and there was no one in sight. Even 
their former cabman, whom they had left 
at the bottom of the hill, had disappeared. 
Moreover, these were war times and, al- 
though they seemed at this moment far 
removed from any kind of conflict, there is 
not the same sense of security in any 
country engaged in war. 

Nona, who did not feel herself particu- 
larly courageous in spite of her Red Cross 
experiences, put her hand lightly on her 
companion’s arm, perhaps with the idea of 


62 


With the Italian Army 


mutual protection, just as the front door 
opened. 

However, they need not have been fright- 
ened, for the figure they now beheld behind 
the open door was a woman’s, and yet as 
like a man’s as her footsteps had suggested. 

In a land where most of the peasant 
women were small and plump, Nannina 
was nearly six feet high, lean and flat of 
chest. She had deep-set dark eyes and a 
prominent nose, like a Caesar’s. 

She did not appear like an ordinary ser- 
vant. Both Sonya and Nona were im- 
mediately impressed by her strange manner 
and bearing. 

She spoke a little English and gave her 
name, announcing that the two visitors 
were expected. 

Then, without wasting more time, she 
started on a sight-seeing pilgrimage of the 
house. 

‘‘Yes, I have been living here twenty 
years,” she replied in answer to a question 
from Nona, “the Donna Elizabetta, who is 
now dead” (and Nannina crossed herself), 
“she and I were girls at the same time.” 


Villa Felice 


63 


But if the Italian serving woman was at 
present living in the Villa Felice there was 
nothing about the looks of the house, except 
its cleanliness, to suggest the fact. Every- 
where it seemed dark and empty and cold. 

Nevertheless when Nannina unbolted and 
opened the windows of the drawing-room, 
both Nona and Sonya uttered exclamations 
of pleasure. 

Neither one of them had ever seen a 
room of just the same character. 

The windows were leaded and arched and 
had low iron railings outside. The room 
itself was long and narrow, with a high 
ceiling, and the walls were of plaster, pale 
yellow in color, and hung with old pieces of 
tapestry. There was an oval mirror with 
a Florentine frame above the white Italian 
marble mantel, and on either side hung a 
portrait of a young girl. One picture must 
have been painted when she was about six- 
teen; the other when several years older. 
Then, upon the mantelpiece, in heavy- 
bronze frames — one under each of the por- 
traits — were the photographs of two Italian 
boys. 


64 


With the Italian Army 


Nona found herself studying the two 
portraits and the two photographs, while 
Sonya made a more careful survey of the 
ancient beautiful furniture of the drawing- 
room. 

“Could you imagine any more lovely 
place to rest and dream than this little 
house, Nona ^ ” Sonya Insisted, walking over 
and glancing out the window at the 
cypress-crowned row of terraces below her 
and at the blue rim of the Apenines in a 
far circle beyond. “But, of course, one 
must allow more air and sunshine to enter 
the house.” 

Nona frowned, not altogether sympa- 
thetically. She was tired and fighting a 
certain amount of envy, almost of condem- 
nation, of Sonya for planning to enjoy the 
peace of this quiet villa, instead of being 
engaged in some form of relief work. It 
was true she had agreed with Sonya that 
she had earned a right to rest, while she 
herself kept on with her Red Cross work, 
but at present Nona could not help feeling 
that she was being the more virtuous in 
refusing Sonya’s invitation to give up nurs- 


Villa Felice 


65 


ing and work in some quieter, less strenuous 
fashion here at the Villa Felice. 

For it seemed to both of them a foregone 
conclusion that Sonya would rent the villa 
as soon as they started up the terrace and 
had the first view of the house. 

‘‘But aren’t there any members of the 
Italian family left who formerly owned 
this place Nona inquired, almost as if 
she resented its desertion. “Surely your 
beautiful Donna Elizabetta did not live here 
alone before her death!” 

The tall woman, who looked more like a 
grenadier than a maid, was drawing her 
hand softly over a carved table to see if it 
held a speck of dust, but at Nona’s inquiry 
she nodded toward the mantel. 

“Yes, there are two sons — the Signor 
Paulo, and the Signor Eugino Zoli. I 
look after this place for them. It is they 
who wish it rented.” 

Isn’t there a girl in the family.^ Whose 
portraits are these.?” Nona demanded, glanc- 
ing up over the mantel, her curiosity still 
unsatisfied. 

There was no reason why her question 


66 


With the Italian Army 


should make any one angry, unless the 
Italian woman resented any curiosity in 
regard to her family. For in Italy there 
is so strong a feudal feeling that the ser- 
vants of a house, if they have been a part 
of it for sufficiently long, feel themselves 
members of the same family. 

Nona was continuing to gaze toward the 
portraits after her speech, so she did not 
notice that the peasant woman turned a 
deep crimson and that her eyes flashed with 
unexpected temper. But Sonya did ob- 
serve her. 

‘‘The portraits are of the Donna Eliza- 
betta. There are no daughters in the fam- 
ily,” she returned sullenly. 

Apparently Nona was not to be dis- 
couraged. 

“What has become of the sons, then.^ 
Why do they wish to give up so charming 
A place she queried, showing more in- 
terest than good manners by her continuing 
questions. 

The serving woman crossed herself again. 

“They are at the war; where else should 
they be.^” she returned. But this time. 


Villa Felice 


67 


although she spoke good-naturedly, Nona 
appreciated that her question had been 
both unnecessary and absurd. But then 
she had imagined the two boys whom she 
had seen in the photographs were of the 
ages their pictures represented. 

As she followed the two older women out 
of the drawing-room to look over the other 
part of the villa, Nona made up her mind 
to remain quiet during the rest of their 
investigation of the house. After all, the 
villa was to be Sonya’s and not hers! 

Afterwards they went together into the 
dining-room and later up-stairs into three 
bed-rooms. These rooms were not attrac- 
tive; the rugs were old and the curtains 
faded and colorless and the furniture dilapi- 
dated. Two of the rooms had evidently 
belonged to the young men in the family; 
the third, which was the largest, was evi- 
dently the apartment of the former mis- 
tress of the villa. 

‘‘I think I will have this room for mine, 
Nona,” Sonya whispered. ‘T’ll not be 
extravagant, but it will not take much 
money to make these bed-rooms at least 


68 


With the Italian Army 


ordinarily pretty and livable. Which do 
you wish for yours ? ’’ 

As Sonya made this remark she chanced 
to be standing at the entrance to one of the« 
rooms. Across the small hall was another 
door, which had not been opened. 

Nannina was Inside one of the further 
rooms, adjusting a fallen curtain. 

Without appreciating that she was doing 
anything she should not and, of course, 
supposing the house to be empty, Sonya 
suddenly stepped across the hall and turned 
the knob of the unexplored room. 

Then she moved back with an exclama- 
tion of surprise and apology. 

Nona was Immediately behind her, but 
Sonya stood still. 

This room was also a bed-room, but 
utterly different in its furnishings from the 
others. The walls of this room were 
painted a deep rose color, there were little 
white curtains at the odd-shaped windows, 
the bed had a fine white cover over it and 
the little table and dresser had tall brass 
candlesticks filled with fresh white candles. 
And standing in the center of the room, in a 


Villa Felice 


69 


quaint, old-fashioned dress, Nona saw one 
of the prettiest girls she had ever beheld 
in her life. 

She looked as if she were only about 
fourteen or fifteen. Instead of being dark, 
as one imagines all Italians to be, she had 
long, fair hair, as light as Nona’s, but her 
eyes were very soft and black with shadowy 
lashes. 

She made a little curtsy to Sonya. 

‘‘I am sorry if I frightened you,” she 
began, speaking perfect English, but look- 
ing very shy and frightened herself. “My 
mother told me to remain in here. She 
said the American ladies would not look 
into this room and later, if they took the 
villa, I could move away without troubling 
them.” 

“Your mother?” Nona found herself re- 
peating stupidly. They had seen no one 
who could possibly be the mother of this 
exquisite girl. 


CHAPTER V 


Bianca 

B ut by this time the Italian woman, 
Nannina, had joined the little group. 
Both Nona and Sonya observed that 
she seemed oddly disturbed. 

Nevertheless she bowed respectfully to 
Sonya. 

‘‘This is my daughter’s room,” she began 
half sullenly and half apologetically. “I 
thought it would not matter if people look- 
ing over the house should not see this one 
room. I intended to tell you it was not 
to be shown to visitors. You may think 
it strange that my daughter should be 
living in this part of the house, now that 
the mistress and the masters are no longer 
at home, but this has been her room always. 
The Donna Elizabetta, having no daughter 
of her own, treated my child almost as if 
she were her own.” 

All the while this explanation was taking 

( 70 ) 


Bianca 


71 


place, Nona found her eyes turning from 
the figure of the Italian peasant woman to 
the girl. To Nona she appeared like a 
child — she was so small and delicately made 
and her manner was so timid and appeal- 
ing. Really the idea that the girl could be 
this gaunt, fierce woman’s daughter seemed 
ridiculously like a fairy story — the story of 
some lovely Princess being hidden away 
by a bad fairy. 

“Bianca, will you show the ladies down 
to the piazza.^ I will bring them tea in a 
few moments,” Nannina added in a per- 
fectly matter-of-fact tone the next moment, 
when Sonya had apologized for her own 
impulsive action. 

Then the two girls found their way to 
the piazza together, while the two older 
women lingered for the further discussion 
of the renting of the villa. i 

Nona felt a little nervous over what she 
and her unexpected acquaintance could have 
to say to each other. As she was so much 
the older, it seemed that the responsibility 
ought to be hers. Moreover, Bianca, 
whose first name was all she at present 


72 


With the Italian Army 


knew, was evidently too shy to take the 
initiative. 

However, Nona was mistaken. Even if 
the younger girl were shy, she had been too 
well brought up not to do whatever was 
proper. 

She led Nona to a little collection of 
chairs at one end of the piazza, overlooking 
the terraced garden. She pointed out the 
best view, asked her guest if she were 
fatigued by her drive and then sat with her 
hands folded in her lap, as if she considered 
her duty entirely accomplished. 

Nona felt both interested and amused by 
her companion. She could scarcely im- 
agine an American girl with so much manner 
and at the same time so little. It was 
exactly as if Bianca had rehearsed a part, 
which she played as prettily as she knew 
how, but as if her real self were hidden. 

Had she not been so pretty and the con- 
ditions of her life so unusual, Nona could 
not decide that she would npt have been 
annoyed by her. American girls, above all 
other things, like other girls to be natural. 
They can even forgive their being crude 


Bianca 


73 


and making mistakes, so long as they are 
honest and genuine. But Bianca was a 
kind of puzzle; one could not understand 
her personality easily. 

“It is very pleasant to find you speak 
English so well; we Americans are dread- 
fully stupid about foreign languages,” Nona 
volunteered, by way of making conversa- 
tion. 

The Italian girl’s lips parted. She had 
small, perfect white teeth. 

“Oh,” she returned politely, “that can- 
not be true! We are always told that the 
American girl is the cleverest and the most 
charming in the whole world. I speak 
English because the Donna Elizabetta was 
also an American woman. She taught us 
to speak her language from the time we 
were tiny children.” 

It occurred to Nona to wonder why the 
Italian girl spoke of “us” and of “we?” 
Then she remembered that Bianca prob- 
ably included the two Italian boys, with 
whom she had grown up in a peculiar 
relation. It must have been as if they 
were the little Italian girl’s brothers and 


74 


With the Italian Army 


at the same time were no relation to her. 
Nona had a sudden vision of how hard the 
future might be for a girl as pretty as this 
one and brought up in the queer way she 
must have been. 

‘‘You are nursing the wounded Italian 
soldiers, are you not?” Bianca asked sud- 
denly. “We Italians were so surprised at 
first by the American ladies coming over 
to help us. You see, in Italy, before this 
present war began, the Italian ladies did 
not nurse the sick. They left nursing to 
the peasants and to the Sisters of Charity. 
But now, since the English and the Ameri- 
cans and the French ladies have assisted 
in the care of the wounded, the Italian 
ladies are also working for them. I have 
told my mother this, for I wish I could be 
allowed to help.” 

“Oh, you are too young,” Nona answered 
good natu redly and condescendingly. Nat- 
urally after two years of Red Cross nurs- 
ing, she had a somewhat superior attitude 
toward any suggestion of amateur nursing, 
knowing as she now did just what expert 
care and skill the wounded soldiers re- 


Bianca 


75 


quired, and how much they had suffered 
from the well-meant but unskilful efforts 
at the beginning of the war. 

‘‘I am not so young as you think,” the 
Italian girl returned; ‘‘I am already six- 
teen. Most persons believe I am younger. 
Of course I know I could not be a real Red 
Cross nurse, but there must be some work 
I can do. I get very tired remaining 
always idle, unless I am at work with my 
music or books. You see, my mother will 
not allow me to help her.” 

Nona had been permitting her mind to 
wander a little while the younger girl was 
talking. As a matter of fact, almost every 
girl she had met recently had confided her 
wish to become a Red Cross nurse, until 
Nona was weary of hearing them. Some 
might be in earnest, but most of them 
could not imagine the sacrifices and dangers 
and the being so deadly tired a good part 
of the time, that the business of nursing 
required. It was the romance — not the 
real work — which made the appeal. 

Now Nona was not in the least interested 
in Bianca’s expressed desire, but she was 


76 


With the Italian Army 


interested in the girl’s own history, which 
her few words had unfolded. Evidently 
the peasant woman was endeavoring to 
bring up her daughter to occupy a position 
entirely different from her own. 

Nona could not help wondering just why 
she desired this, and how she expected to 
be successful. She would like to have 
known if there were any money for the 
girl’s education, or if the friend who had 
been kind to her had made any plans for 
her future.^ But, of course, there was no 
way of finding out these things from a 
stranger, since good taste forbade one asking 
such intimate questions. Moreover, Nona 
did not feel that she understood enough of 
Italian society to appreciate how successful 
Nannina’s efforts for her child might be. 
Even in the United States Bianca might 
have a difficult time, although now and 
then a girl of unusual beauty or ability was 
able to accomplish almost anything she 
desired with sufficient earnestness. 

But did Bianca desire anything unusual 
for herself, or was the ambition only her 
mother’s for her? 


Bianca 


77 


Nona was again glancing at the younger 
girl more curiously than one ordinarily 
does toward a stranger, when suddenly she 
saw her expression change. 

A moment before she had been shy and 
serious; now her face flushed and she 
jumped up with unexpected animation. 

^^Gino and Paulo are coming!’’ she ex- 
plained. “They promised, if it were pos- 
sible, they would come to see if the American 
ladies desired to rent the villa. You will 
pardon me.” 

Nona watched the little girl run lightly 
down the stone walk between the terraces. 
For Bianca was so small it was difficult to 
remember or to believe she was sixteen 
years old. 

At almost the same time Nona also dis- 
covered two young men approaching. 

They were unlike in appearance; one 
of them tall and slender with the dark hair 
and eyes and the well-cut features one 
expects in an Italian of gentle breeding. 
The other, who held his cap in his hand, had 
gold-brown hair and a small, closely trim- 
med beard. He was probably the older. 


78 


With the Italian Army 


although there did not appear to be much 
difference in the ages of the two brothers. 
But it was to him Bianca evidently ad- 
dressed her story, and she came up to the 
house with her hand in his. 

Both young men were dressed in the 
khaki service uniforms of the Italian sol- 
dier. But Nona recognized that the older 
one of them was an aviator. 

Almost at once they walked up on the 
piazza to speak to her, Bianca having evi- 
dently explained her presence. And, for- 
tunately, Sonya joined them, while Blanca 
was introducing her two foster brothers. 

The older of the two men, whom Bianca 
called Gino, was the one to whom Nona 
felt attracted, although he was less hand- 
some than his brother. But on closer 
observation she saw that he had wide-open, 
warm, steel-gray eyes with a humorous 
expression. Also his manner was friendly 
and charming. 

He and Sonya did the greater part of the 
talking. 

“I am sure my brother and I shall be 
most happy to have two Americans occupy 


Bianca 


79 


our home if you are pleased. My mother 
was also an American and we therefore 
feel ourselves partly so,” he added, looking 
so unlike an American at the moment that 
Sonya smiled. 

^^But I am not an American and, although 
Miss Davis is. I’m afraid she is not going 
to live here with me, although she has 
promised to be with me whenever it is 
possible. You see, she has come to Italy 
to help with the nursing at the American 
Red Cross Hospital in Florence.” 

‘‘Then one of us may some day have the 
good fortune to have you as a nurse,” the 
younger of the two young men interrupted. 
Bianca spoke to him as “Paulo.” He 
seemed to Nona to show more gallantry 
than common sense. 

She shook her head in a disturbed fashion. 

“I hope not. You see, I have been 
nursing since the early part of the present 
war and I often wonder why nearly all 
soldiers speak so lightly of being wounded. 
I am afraid they don’t know what we nurses 
do.” 

She turned to the older brother. 


80 


With the Italian Army 


“You are an aviator, Signor Zoli?’’ 

But Paulo again interrupted. Either 
he was very talkative, or else he did not 
intend having the American girl’s atten- 
tion turned solely upon his brother. 

“Oh, Gino chose the air for his soldiering 
because it is the easiek job in Italy these 
days. You see, he is an artist when he is 
not a soldier and, whatever he may tell 
you, he does not like roughing it. I wonder 
if you realize that the war between the 
Italian and Austrian soldiers is being fought 
at present in the Trentino in the highest 
altitude that war has ever been known.” 

“Yes, and Paulo belongs to the Alps 
Brigade — the Hunters of the Alps. Gara- 
baldi’s grandsons are in the same brigade,’^ 
the older brother answered, smiling with a 
kind of good-natured carelessness. 

It seemed to Nona that this good-natured 
carelessness was a marked characteristic of 
his. She noticed it in his manner toward 
Bianca, who in spite of her reserve did not 
fail to reveal her preference for him. He 
treated her as one might a younger sister, 
but showed her no special attention or 
affection. 


Bianca 


81 


As a matter of fact, it seemed to be Paulo 
who was more interested and fonder of the 
little girl. Several times during the general 
conversation he would lean over and say 
something which was intended only for her. 
Once, when he supposed no one to be observ- 
ing them, he drew out a little box and 
handed it to her. Later Nona saw the 
girl’s delicately fair cheeks flush as she 
opened the box and pinned a tiny spray 
of pink coral in her old-fashioned muslin 
dress. 

When Nannina finally appeared with the 
tea tray, Nona and Sonya were both in- 
terested to see how the little girl would 
behave, and if she would make any effort 
to assist her mother. 

But Bianca behaved exactly as if she were 
the real daughter of the house. She took 
her place behind the tea table, serving the 
tea as only a well brought up foreign girl 
could. Whatever she wished she asked 
Nannina for politely but did not attempt 
to relieve her in any way. 

And the two young men seemed to take 
her attitude as entirely a matter of course. 


82 


With the Italian Army 


They were evidently accustomed to having 
Bianca behave exactly as she did behave. 

Nona Davis was not at all sure that she 
liked or approved of the situation. 

On the way back to Florence, Sonya 
remarked carelessly: 

‘‘Oh, Nona, I did not have the oppor- 
tunity to tell you, but the Italian woman, 
Nannina, has promised to stay on at the 
Villa Felice as my housekeeper. It will be 
splendid for me to have some one who knows 
the neighborhood and the customs of the 
country. Besides, I suppose she would 
feel rather desolate to be turned out of a 
place in which she has lived so long. I 
spoke of her staying to the two Signors and 
they appeared much relieved. I presume 
Nannina’s future has been a problem for 
them.” 

“Nannia’s future? I should think Bianca’s 
future would be more serious,” Nona an- 
swered a little irritably. “I wonder, Sonya, 
if you have thought just what you will do 
having Bianca in the same house with you 
under the peculiar conditions in which she 
lives. Are you also going to adopt her as 
your daughter?” 


Bianca 


83 

— f 


There was no doubting the fact that 
Nona was jealous of the possible situation 
ahead. Not in the least did she enjoy the 
idea of Sonya’s having another girl living 
with her, as she had been doing since their 
return from Russia. Moreover, Bianca 
was extraordinarily pretty and appealing. 
She was the gentle, exquisite type of girl 
for whom most people do a great deal 
under the impression that a girl of this 
character can do little except be lovely. 
Nona was too American to like this idea. 

But Sonya must have understood, for 
she put her arm about the younger girl. 

Don’t be silly, Nona! Yes, Bianca may 
be a problem. I think I had scarcely 
thought of how much of a one she might 
be, I was so anxious to have the service of 
her mother. Still, there must be a plan 
of some kind for the girl’s future. She 
cannot go on living as she has in the past. 
Now that I think of her, I really feel ex- 
tremely sorry for the child.” 


CHAPTER VI 


Guests at Sonya’s Villa 
the days passed, Nona and the 



three American girls who had crossed 


on the steamer with her, became 
even more deeply interested in their work 
at the American Hospital. 

Naturally at first many things in Italy 
appeared foreign and unusual to them. But 
a little later on, Nona, who had more 
European experience than the others, began 
to appreciate that there was actually a 
greater degree of the real American atmos- 
phere in Florence than in any city in 
Europe in which she had so far nursed. 
And this was because so many of her own 
country people ordinarily live in Florence. 
As a matter of fact, in time of peace Flor- 
ence is one of the most cosmopolitan cities 
in Europe. 

Many persons beside Americans, Eng- 
lish and Germans as well — lovers of the 


( 84 ) 


Guests at Sonya’s Villa 


85 


arts of the past more than of those of the 
present, and possessing small incomes of 
which they wish to make the most — have 
for many years chosen Florence as their 
home, the city of Boccaccio, of Dante and 
Michael Angelo, and later of the beau- 
tiful married life of Elizabeth and Robert' 
Browning. 

However, when Italy cast in her fortunes 
with the Entente Allies, the greater number 
of foreigners departed from her cities, and, 
as Germany had become an enemy coun- 
try, it was presumed that all the Germans 
were scattered. 

But Nona was pleased to discover that at 
least there remained in the city of Florence 
a sufficient number of her own countrymen 
to make her feel remarkably comfortable 
and at home, and they were also wonder- 
fully hospitable and cordial to all the 
newcomers. The hospital where she was 
nursing was of course entirely run by 
American funds and had a distinguished 
American physician at its head. 

Moreover, each day Nona used to watch 
charming American women coming into the 


86 


With the Italian Army 


hospital with gifts of books and flowers and 
food for the wounded soldiers. Now and 
then entering a room unexpectedly to take 
a temperature or to administer a dose of 
medicine, it struck Nona that she might 
possibly be interrupting a romance. What 
she would see would have represented a 
romance in the United States or in Eng- 
land, or in any Anglo-Saxon land, for the 
dark eyes of the soldier would be gazing 
ardently toward his woman or girl visitor, 
and his entire expression would represent 
admiration, if not something approaching 
adoration. But Nona was yet to learn to 
understand the Latin temperament, to know 
that Italians are natural flatterers of women, 
and that it is not possible they can mean 
all that they may say. 

But at present Nona learned that one of 
the greatest hardships which the war had 
brought upon Florence was the increasing 
poverty of the city. As Florence depended 
so largely upon her foreign population, 
their disappearance meant for her a heavy 
loss. So once or twice Nona wrote Sonya 
not to worry over failing for the present to 


Guests at Sonya’s Villa 


87 


assist with the war work, since at least she 
was aiding the cause a little by spending 
her money in Italy. 

Nona also endeavored to persuade Dr. 
Latham to this same point of view in order 
to disarm his criticism of her friend. But 
apparently he was obdurate. 

The big doctor, as the American girls 
continued to call him, had also established 
himself temporarily at the American Hos- 
pital in Florence. He was working there 
with the other surgeons, interesting them 
in his new discovery for the treatment of 
infected wounds. Later he intended to 
go to other hospitals nearer the Italian 
front. ' 

It chanced that Sonya had never come 
in contact with Dr. Latham since their 
accidental meeting in the tea gardens in 
Naples; therefore she had never spoken 
to him of the conversation she had with the 
young Italian singer. Carlo Navara, at 
his suggestion. 

Nevertheless, Sonya was delighted to 
hear, through Nona, of the American phy- 
sician’s presence at the same hospital. For, 


88 


With the Italian Army 


however brusque and disagreeable his man- 
ner had been to her in their few meetings, 
she knew that he would watch over Nona 
and the new Red Cross girls with especial 
interest. 

She was grateful for this, because until 
recently she had not been separated from 
Nona in more than a year, and now, while 
Nona continued her Red Cross nursing in 
Florence, it might be possible to see but 
little of her. 

For a few days after her first visit to the 
Villa Felice, Sonya had taken the house and 
moved out there. As a matter of fact, she 
had not been into the city a single time 
since. 

However, in Sonya’s surmise that the 
American doctor would be particularly 
interested in the four new Red Cross nurses, 
apparently she had been correct. There 
were times when Nona was almost sur- 
prised by the interest he seemed to take in 
her. Whenever she had a free hour he 
appeared to like to be allowed to spend it 
with her, either in sightseeing, or in visit- 
ing new acquaintances who asked them in 


Guests at Sonya’s Villa 


89 


for afternoon tea. But Nona decided that, 
although Doctor Latham was almost old 
enough to be her father, nevertheless he 
must be lonely and wished some one to 
amuse him. However, there were times 
when she would rather have preferred his 
finding some one beside herself. For Flor- 
ence contains probably the two greatest 
picture galleries in the world — the Ufizzi 
and the Pitti Galleries — and, as Nona was 
intensely interested in pictures, she would 
have liked to spend many of her free hours 
in them. But unfortunately Dr. Latham 
was as scornful of artists as he was of the 
idle rich. The fact that their work hiad 
been preserved through the centuries and 
represented many hundreds of thousands 
of dollars did not alfect his opinion in the 
least. Artists — ancient or modern — he an- 
nounced to be ^‘a poor lot.” 

However, one morning when Sonya had 
been settled at her Italian villa for about 
ten days, Nona received a note from her. 
The note asked, if it were possible, for Nona 
and the three girls — Dolores King, Mollie 
Drew and Agatha Burton — to drive out to 
spend the afternoon with her. 


90 


With the Italian Army 


The note further explained that the two 
young Italian owners of the Villa Felice, 
whom Nona had previously met, having a 
leave of absence from the front, were then 
visiting friends in the same neighborhood. 
As they were anxious to know American 
girls, they were coming to tea, and were 
to bring several of their friends. 

Immediately on reading Sonya’s letter, 
the invitation struck Nona as extremely 
agreeable. She was, of course, anxious to 
see Sonya as soon as possible and to find 
out how she had arranged her small but 
not altogether simple household, since it 
was formed of so strange a combination as 
Bianca and Bianca’s mother. Moreover, 
Nona frankly confessed to herself that she 
had enjoyed meeting the two Italian sig- 
nors and that she had particularly liked the 
older one, whom she had since thought of 
as the artist-soldier. 

Moreover, she knew that the three other 
girls would be pleased by the opportunity 
of an afternoon of freedom and the experi- 
ence of an Italian tea party. Several times 
Mollie Drew had remarked lately that she 


Guests at Sonya’s Villa 


91 


hoped Sonya, whom she called ‘‘The Beauti- 
ful Lady,” had not forgotten them. 

As soon as it was possible to leave her 
work, Nona slipped away on a pilgrimage 
to find the other three girls and to deliver 
Sonya’s message. 

She was passing the open door of one of 
the wards when unexpectedly Dr. Latham 
stepped out into the hall. 

Nona thought he looked uncommonly 
grave even for the big doctor, whose ex- 
pression was usually serious. However, 
his expression changed when he caught 
sight of her. 

“You are the very person I was thinking 
of,” he announced unexpectedly. 

Fortunately Nona had no idea of how 
pretty she appeared in her Red Cross uni- 
form, which is, however, an extremely be- 
coming costume for most girls and women. 

And Nona had grown much prettier in 
the last year of her return to her old home 
in South Carolina with Sonya. For the 
first time since she could remember there 
had been another woman in her home whom 
she could love and who also cared for her. 


92 


With the Italian Army 


For Nona had almost no recollection of her 
own mother, who had died under strange 
circumstances when she was a little girl. 
The rest also had been good for her and the 
freedom from care, for Sonya still had 
sufficient mouv^y invested in the United 
States for tbeni to live upon comfortably. 

Therefore Nona had lost the too ethereal 
l^ok which she had revealed upon the day 
of her first meeting with the original Red 
Cross girls, Barbara, Mildred and Eugenia. 
Her pallor had disappeared, so that now 
she often had real color in her cheeks, and 
her thinness could be called slenderness. 

Moreover, she had more vivacity and 
self-assurance, for Sonya’s influence and 
affection had done much for her. 

Nona stopped, of course, when Dr. Lat- 
ham spoke to her, although showing that 
she was in a hurry to move on as soon as 
possible again. 

‘T want you to promise to spend your 
free time in the Boboli Gardens with 
me this afternoon. These warm Floren- 
tine spring days are so enchanting they 
even affect an old fellow like me,” he 
continued. 


Guests at Sonya’s Villa 


93 


Nona shook her head. 

‘‘ Sorry, but I have another engagement,” 
she answered, careless at first. Then 
noticing his disappointment, she was more 
sympathetic. After all, why not take Dr. 
Latham along with them to Sonya’s? It 
might be pleasant to have a masculine 
escort. Moreover, she liked and admired 
the big doctor so much ; it was nonsensical 
that he and Sonya should continue to be 
prejudiced. 

As a matter of fact, Nona knew that 
Sonya’s feeling against Dr. Latham was 
not very deep one way or the other. He 
had not attracted her and at present she 
did not wish to be annoyed by strangers. 

She had been forced to know so many 
people in her crowded life that now she 
wished to be alone whenever it was possible 
and to take a holiday from them. 

But Dr. Latham might not be so easy 
to influence. 

However, Nona made up her mind to 
ask him to go with them. 

He was obstinate at first. 

‘‘But I don’t like your friend and she 


94 


With the Italian Army 


does not like me, and as she has not asked 
me and I don’t drink tea, just why should 
I go?” he demanded. 

But Nona only laughed. 

“Why, to please me.” 

And although Dr. Latham growled some- 
thing or other none too polite to Sonya in 
return, Nona knew he intended to do what 
she wished. 

“I’ve got one condition,” he added. 
“I’m going to make another effort to make 
that friend of your’s useful to us in our 
Red Cross work.” 

As Nona was anxious to be off she nodded 
her head. 

“Oh, persuade Sonya to anything you 
like, if you think that you can manage her. 
But I wish she would let me tell you her 
real history. Then you would not do her 
the injustice to think she is merely idling 
in Italy for no reason.” 

Without waiting for any more conversa- 
tion, Nona then disappeared. 

It was a task to find the other three girls 
and to deliver Sonya’s invitation at a 
moment when they were not too busy to 


Guests at Sonya’s Villa 


95 


listen. However, after this was accom- 
plished, the superintendent of the hospital 
was kind enough to allow the four new Red 
Cross girls a holiday for the entire after- 
noon. She wished to make their stay in 
Florence as agreeable as possible without 
interfering too much with their work, and 
just at present the hospital was not crowded. 

During her second drive to the Villa 
Felice, Nona felt as if she were already 
familiar with the landscape and enjoyed 
pointing out its beauties to her four com- 
panions. 

As they walked up the path, they found 
Sonya, whose other guests had already 
arrived, sitting with them on the green 
slope of lawn before her villa and surrounded 
by its ornamental lemon and orange trees. 

There were four Italian soldiers present 
this afternoon and another girl. Nona 
could not be sure of her age, as she was 
wearing a big, flopping Leghorn hat which 
partly concealed her face. 

Bianca was with them, too, but she was a 
little back from the others, with her hands 
folded in her lap in the demure fashion 
which seemed characteristic of her. 


96 


WiSb the Italian Army 


Sonya came quickly forward to meet her 
new guests. She was especially cordial to 
Dr. Latham, as Nona guessed she would 
be under the circumstances. One can 
never be rude to a guest in one’s own house 
under any circumstances, and, moreover, 
Sonya had really almost forgotten her atti- 
tude toward the American doctor in their 
earlier acquaintance. 

Nona noticed that Bianca waited quietly 
until the other introductions were accom- 
plished and then came forward to greet her 
and to meet the others. Her manners were 
just as self-possessed and she seemed as 
much at home as during their first meeting. 
However, when the introductions were 
over, she went back to her place and sat 
down quietly again, attempting to take no 
part in the general conversation. Yet 
Nona could not help glancing curiously 
toward the younger girl now and then and 
wondering why she seemed so unlike any 
American girl of her age whom she had 
ever known. 

However, she could not give much atten- 
tion to Bianca. 


Guests at Sonya’s Villa 


97 


Nona was also entertained by the pleasure 
Dr. Latham showed in Sonya’s unexpected 
cordiality to him. He thawed as most men 
do under a charming woman’s influence. 

Indeed, Sonya saw that the entire com- 
pany made much of the American doctor. 
And although he laughed and protested 
somewhat brusquely at the compliments 
which were paid him, no one really objects 
to being treated as a hero. 

Of course, during the first part of their 
visit, the conversation among Sonya’s guests 
was general. However, Nona was pleased 
because, as soon as it was possible. Signor 
Zoli came over and quietly took the chair 
next to hers. 

She thought he looked more agreeable 
than ever and unlike what she had expected 
of an Italian, with his tiny pointed beard, 
his golden-brown hair and his skin almost 
the same color. 

If Nona had not seen so much of the 
soldiers of the Allied nations during the 
present war she might have been surprised 
at Signor Eugino’s apparent gayety. But 
this seems ever a part of the soldier’s 


98 


With the Italian Army 


strange profession, that, when not engaged 
in actual service, they are ever the merriest 
and most sweet-tempered of men. 

‘‘It is good to see you again,” he said 
at the first opportunity to speak to Nona 
without the others hearing. ‘‘My brother 
and I have been again to call on your 
friend, and our villa seems more like home 
than it has since my mother’s death. We 
chance to be having a leave of absence 
from the front and are staying with the 
Princess Carnia, who is an old friend.” 

Nona must have looked a little surprised, 
because her companion laughed. 

“Oh, the Princess comes from Chicago, 
but she is a Princess nevertheless. Her 
husband, who was very much older, is 
dead.” 

The Princess Carnia was Sonya’s other 
guest, whom Nona had first thought to 
be a girl. 

She realized now that she was a little 
older than she had seemed at first, although 
she could not be much over twetity. 

“The Princess has a large fortune in 
sausage or something,” the young Italian 


Guests at Sonya’s Villa 99’ 


artist went on explaining good-naturedly 
for Nona’s benefit. ‘‘So her mother, who 
was a very ambitious American lady, 
married her to the Prince when Laura was 
not eighteen. Forgive my using her first 
name, but our mothers were old friends 
and my brother and I have known her 
ever since she first came to Italy.” 

Nona looked across at the stranger with 
greater interest. She did not think she 
was either pretty or attractive in her 
manner. She had rather small dark eyes 
and a large nose and a restless fashion of 
talking. 

However, her companion went on talking 
and attracted her attention again. 

“I wonder, if you have the opportunity 
later, if you will come to look at my studio 
with me some time this afternoon. I have 
been spending a few hours there every day 
during my leave. It is not far away. You 
see, I had a tumble out of my airship a 
short while ago and I’ve been waiting 
around until I was thoroughly mended. 
So I have been working in my studio, now 
and then, as much to kill time as for any 
other reason. 


100 


With the Italian Army 


Nona nodded. 

‘‘I’ll come with you with pleasure, I 
should like very much to see an Italian 
studio,” she returned cordially. 

But at this moment Nannina, the Italian 
housekeeper, appeared with the tea tray. 
She placed it before Sonya, who began 
acting as hostess. 

But before Nona could suggest that she 
be allowed to assist, Bianca had stepped 
quietly forward and Nona saw that Sonya 
seemed to enjoy the younger girl’s deft 
helpfulness. She was a little annoyed, but 
made no effort to take Bianca’s place. 

Yet Nona wondered a little jealously 
what Sonya’s feeling toward Bianca had 
grown to be, after living in the house with 
her for a number of days. 

When tea was finished, fortunately Paulo 
Zoll suggested that they all walk about the 
grounds for a time. 

He and Dolores King already appeared 
to have taken a decided fancy to each other. 
But then Dolores was the type of vivacious 
southern girl who is always attractive to 
men. One could also readily imagine that 


Guests at Sonya’s Villa 


101 


Paulo had the usual Latin temperament, 
which means he was a natural admirer of 
all attractive girls. 

Nona felt that his older brother had a 
different nature, and was more like an 
American. For, in all Nona^s experiences 
among foreigners, she had remained true 
to the idea that she could never really care 
seriously for any man, except one of her 
own countryman. 

She had been surprised by Eugenia’s 
marriage to a Frenchman and more, perhaps, 
by Mildred Thornton’s engagement to a 
Russian General. Personally she had, of 
course, always liked Dick Thornton, so 
that Barbara had once believed she had 
been half-way in love with him. But, 
although Nona had quite recovered from 
any fancy for Dick, Barbara’s marriage to 
Richard Thornton was the one of the mar- 
riages of the original three Red Cross girls 
which she could understand and approve. 

Therefore, Nona’s promise to Sonya that 
she would not allow herself to become 
interested in an Italian was certainly made 
in entire good faith. 


102 


With the Italian Army 


The moment following Paulo’s suggestion 
the four American Red Cross girls and the 
four young soldiers started off toward the 
left of the villa. 

The Princess chanced to be talking to 
Sonya and Dr. Latham. They insisted 
they had no desire to be disturbed. 

Nona glanced toward Bianca, feeling as 
if it were unkind to leave the younger girl 
sitting there alone, without asking her to 
accompany them. Would she not feel 
wounded by the neglect? 

However, Bianca did not even glance 
toward them and, as her foster brothers 
made no effort to include her, Nona went 
on without knowing exactly what to do. 

Ten minutes later she found herself 
standing alone with Eugino Zoli outside 
his studio. 

How he had managed to separate her 
from the others she was not sure. 

Nona had an instant of thinking that 
Sonya might not be pleased. But, then, 
Sonya was unnecessarily particular, and 
besides she was no longer a child. More- 
over, Sonya must like the two brothers or 
she would not be so friendly with them. 


Guests at Sonya’s Villa 


103 


Outside, the studio building was of cheap 
wooden boards, but wild vines had been 
trained over it so as almost entirely to 
cover the framework. 

However, Nona was scarcely prepared 
for the charm of the room on the inside. 
It must have been forty feet long, with a 
high arched ceiling, and had a great north 
window facing the light. 

For furniture there was an immense 
divan covered with worn but exquisite 
pieces of tapestry; a table and tall chairs 
carved with the heads of cherubs and the 
insignia of old Florentine families. There 
were half a dozen easels standing about, 
with the painted side of the canvas turned 
away. But on the walls were a number of 
paintings which looked like old masters to 
Nona, except that they did not bear the 
magic names of the great artists. 

But the greatest charm of the room was 
the glow of deep yet subdued color. It 
seemed to have a strange influence upon 
Nona. She felt as if she were moving in 
a pleasant dream. 

‘‘But won’t you show me some of your 


104 


With the Italian Army 


own work now?” she asked, after her com- 
panion had pointed out what he considered 
the best things in his collection. 

“I got them all for a song,” he had 
explained boyishly, ‘^and some of them 
really are rather good.” 

As a matter of fact, Nona was beginning 
to realize that the young Italian was 
younger than she had at first thought, from 
his manner and appearance. He was actu- 
ally twenty-two, but his close-cut foreign 
beard did make him look older; then, as 
the eldest son, he had been in a measure 
the head of the house after his father’s 
death. 

‘H’ll show you my work with pleasure. 
I really do want you to see it. I suppose 
that is one of the reasons why I asked you 
to come here to the studio with me. Of 
course, it seems absurd for any one to 
attempt to be an artist in Florence today, 
but, after all, that is the work I love best, 
however poorly I may succeed,” he con- 
cluded, with what Nona considered an 
attractive modesty. 

However, it seemed to Nona that Eugino 


Guests at Sonya’s Villa 


105 


Zoli^s work was charming, although she 
realized that she was not an altogether 
competent or unprejudiced judge. But his 
paintings represented interiors of old 
churches in Italy, odd bits of the Floren- 
tine landscape, such as a fragment of wall 
covered with a vine, and a figure of' a 
nymph or faun standing in the foreground. 

^‘This is my last sketch, which I made 
one day when I was loafing back of the line 
in the Trentino,” the young man said 
finally, leaning over and pulling a sketch 
out of a large portfolio which was lying 
carelessly upon the floor. 

He handed the sketch to Nona and she 
saw the outline of a tall, blue mountain 
with its crown covered with snow. Above 
it the sky was of the wonderful Italian blue. 
Caught up almost in the clouds was what 
looked like a giant white bird pausing for 
an instant before swooping lower toward 
the valley. But Nona, of course, recog- 
nized the outline of an airship. 

^Ht is a sketch of a friend of mine, re- 
connoitering over the Austrian lines. He 
was killed later that same day,” the artist 
explained. 


106 


With the Italian Army 


Nona was embarrassed by her own emo- 
tion, because of course in these war times 
the first thing each one of us should learn 
is self-control. And, unexpectedly, her eyes 
had filled with tears. 

“It is a beautiful piece of work; I should 
think you would value it very much,” she 
said slowly. “I don’t know why, but it 
makes me recall a song I have always loved, 
‘The Wings of a Dove,’ It is as if your 
friend had flown away into his eternal rest.” 

Nona was not looking at her companion, 
but she was surprised to hear him say 
suddenly: 

“I wonder if you would care to keep this 
sketch. If it pleases you I would like you 
to have it. Perhaps you may remember 
me by it, because it happens to suggest the 
two things I am most interested in at the 
present time.” 

Nona flushed, partly with surprise, but 
more with pleasure in her gift. She did 
not know when anything had pleased her 
more. 

“You are wonderfully kind, but do you 
think I ought to have anything so valuable,” 


Guests at Sonya’s Villa 


107 


she was saying, when she heard a slight 
noise at the open door. 

Glancing up Nona saw that it was Bianca. 

Today she was wearing a white dress 
which was really suitable for a much younger 
girl and made her look more like a child 
than ever. It was of sheer white muslin 
and lace, with a short waist and a deep full 
skirt. Her hair, curled in half a dozen big, 
loose curls, was caught back with a black 
velvet ribbon. She was extraordinarily 
pretty, and yet it seemed to Nona Bianca 
could not be so old as she had said. 

She made her little curtsy as if she were 
yet a child. 

“The Signora says will you please return 
to the villa at once. It is growing late,” 
she declared, as if she were repeating 
Sonya’s exact words. 

Nona got up hurriedly. She was not 
surprised by the message, nor did she stop 
to wonder how Sonya could have known 
of her presence in the studio. 

Indeed, she was suddenly worried as to 
whether Sonya would be really angry. 
After all, she knew nothing of Italian cus- 


108 


With the Italian Army 


toms. Perhaps she had been wrong to 
spend this quarter of an hour alone with 
so new an acquaintance. However, as 
Nona held firmly to her picture, she could 
not altogether regret her indiscretion. She 
had had a pleasant talk and a lovely gift, 
and there was really nothing to regret. 

However, she was glad that Sonya had 
no opportunity to speak to her alone or to 
ask questions. 

Sonya happened to be too much occu- 
pied with her farewells to her other guests. 

Evidently Dr. Latham had carried out 
his threat, for she was laughing and at the 
saiiiv-^ tiTDe protesting over something he 
must have lately said to her. 

“But I told you, Dr. Latham, that I had 
come to Italy to rest— not to help with the 
relief work among the soldiers for the 
present. If you turn my house into a 
convalescent home, it seems to me I may 
have rather more to do than the rest of 
you. And, though you may not believe 
me, I have earned a holiday.” 

“Just the same, if I find a few Italian 
boys who need a place just like the Villa 


Guests at Sonya’s Villa 


109 


Felice, where they can rest and grow strong, 
I’ve half an idea you will not turn them 
away,” Dr. Latham added obstinately. 

But Nona saw that his opinion of Sonya 
had altered for the time being, at least. 
However much he might decide to dislike 
her tomorrow, he was under the influence 
of her charm at this moment. 

‘‘By the way, whatever became of the 
young Italian boy — the singer — ^whom I 
turned over to you in Naples? Did he 
return to the United States, or did you 
transform him into a real soldier by a few 
words of encouragement?” he continued. 

But Sonya had no opportunity to reply, 
for other farewells had to be said at this 
instant. 

So far as Nona and Sonya were concerned, 
their only private talk with each other was 
when Sonya whispered at parting: 

“Am I never to see you alone, dear? 
There are so many questions I want to 
ask — so many things I have to tell you. 
But please don’t overwork. I am missing 
you dreadfully.” 


CHAPTER VII 


The Italian Singer 

I T was night in the Trentino. The 
Italian soldiers had been told that an 
attack was to be made by them at 
dawn. 

Ten thousand feet above, in their nests 
amid eternal snows, the Austrian and Ger- 
man soldiers were to be forced into the 
open. 

In his dugout behind the Italian in- 
trenchments, the young Italian singer, who 
had crossed on the torpedoed ship with the 
Red Cross girls, lay awaiting the summons 
to charge up the Alpine passes with the 
breaking of the day. 

Some of the soldiers slept with their guns 
in their hands, but Carlo had no idea of 
being able to sleep during the long night. 
For the morning was to bring the great test 
of his life — his first experience in fighting. 
Sooner than he anticipated. Carlo Navara, 
( 110 ) 


The Italian Singer 


111 


whose plan had been to become a great 
artist — never a soldier — had been sent to 
the Italian front. 

However, for almost two years, while 
struggling to make up his mind to return 
to Italy and offer his services to the gov- 
ernment, Carlo had been at work in his 
free hours learning all that he could of the 
uncongenial tasks of soldiering. 

For many men and boys, beside Carlo 
Navara, hate the life and the work of a 
soldier; it is idle to believe they do not, 
or that all men are equally fitted for it. 
Only they must — as Carlo had — learn to 
fight from a sense of duty and a sense of 
loyalty. For so long as there are nations 
and men in the world who still believe in 
war, so long even those who believe in 
peace must offer themselves for universal 
service. For no man can allow another 
man’s courage and devotion to make the 
world a safe place for the shirker. 

Now Carlo had time for considering 
many things. 

In the first place, why had he regarded 
himself as an Italian rather than an Ameri- 


112 


With the Italian Army 


can? It was true he had been born in 
southern Italy and lived there as a small 
boy. But, almost ever since he could 
remember clearly, his home had been in 
New York City. And he loved the United 
States best. 

Tonight he recalled the tiny Italian fruit 
shop over which he and his mother and 
father lived in New York. He had some- 
times been ashamed of the neighborhood, 
since he had made new friends among 
fashionable people and had started upon 
his career as an artist. But tonight Carlo 
would have given a great deal to have been 
under the little tenement shelter — to have 
breathed again the mingled odors of oranges 
and pineapples and bananas rising from 
the shop below. At home he used to dream 
of the day when his voice would make him 
a great fortune, when he would move the 
little old mother and father to some sump- 
tuous place, where, although he might never 
know it, they would probably be perfectly 
miserable. But now he feared that not 
only might he never attain the rich home, 
but that he might never see the humble one 
again. 


The Italian Singer 


113 


Carlo shifted his position; the night was 
cold — so cold that it made him think of the 
evenings when he had first begun singing 
in the New York City streets and waiting 
for the showers of pennies and nickels and 
dimes to fall from the windows of apart- 
ment houses and hotels. For they had 
always followed his songs. But this was, 
of course, before his discovery by the friend 
who had made a splendid musical future 
possible for him. 

For, since then. Carlo had taken the 
greatest possible care of his voice; never 
exposing himself to damp air when it was 
avoidable; never singing except when his 
master gave permission and then only the 
songs he chose for him. 

Yet here he was tonight so cold that his 
voice felt frozen in his throat. Even 
should he escape other injury, perhaps he 
might never be able to sing again. Yet the 
greatest living Italian tenor had called his 
‘^a golden voice” and had predicted that 
some day he. Carlo Navara, would fill his 
high place in the world of great singers. 

So it was small wonder, and perhaps not 


114 


With the Italian Army 


so reprehensible, that the young soldier felt 
himself beaten by waves of self-pity, and 
now and then by regret. He had not been 
forced to come to Italy. He had chosen 
the duty voluntarily, for he had always 
intended becoming a United States citizen. 
And he still intended to do this if he ever 
got safely back to America. 

Nevertheless Italy had called him and 
he had answered the call. 

So tonight Carlo in the darkness trying 
to fortify his courage repeated softly to 
himself the words of a great French writer 
— ^Anatole France: 

“Beautiful Italy, which I have loved all 
my life — loved for her nature and her 
genius — loved for her cypress-crowned hills, 
her mountains of terebinthine shade, or, 
bare under the sun that gilds them — those 
other mountains whose very names set 
generous hearts a-throb.” 

Then, looking up at those mountains 
where, on the farther side, other boys like 
himself lay thrusting out of mind their old 
dreams, Carlo allowed himself to cry softly 
in the dark. 


The Italian Singer 


115 


He was ashamed; he hated himself for 
his tears, but no one would know! 
Everything about them at present was so 
deadly quiet. 

Carlo lay in the second line of trenches; 
the artillery which was to clear the ground 
ahead at daybreak was behind the third 
line. 

Then, suddenly, in the midst of his shame 
and of his self-pity. Carlo recalled the final 
words a stranger had said to him a few 
weeks before in Naples. 

‘‘You must remember that many people 
— and usually the finest ones — are fright- 
ened before the great moments of their 
lives. You are ashamed because you are 
fearful over the thought of facing your first 
battle. Will you not also suffer equally 
when you face your first great audience as 
a singer.^ And yet you will not be ashamed 
of this, because you can say that will be 
a spiritual, not a physical, fear. 

“But there is no reason why you should be 
more ashamed of one than of the other, so 
long as you master it.’’ 

“ She was a wonderful woman — this Sonya 
Valesky!” 


116 


With the Italian Army 


Ever since first seeing her on board ship, 
Carlo had been attracted by her. 

It was for this reason he had tried to make 
friends with the young southern girl — Miss 
Davis — in order that he might through her 
come to know her friend. 

However, the older woman had appar- 
ently not wished to make acquaintances 
on ship board. For it was not until the 
night of their disaster, when his timidity 
had filled the other passengers with dis- 
like, that she had been so extraordinarily 
kind to him. 

Afterwards there had been only the hour 
when they had talked together alone in the 
little pension in Naples. It was there that 
Madame Valesky had told him more of her 
own history than she wished any of their 
fellow travelers to know, trusting him to 
keep her secret. For she wished him to 
realize that, in her own past days in Russia, 
when she had been fighting with her small 
powers against the autocratic might of the 
Russian government, she too had frequently 
been afraid — had longed to give up and 
turn her back upon the mission she had 
set out to accomplish. 


The Italian Singer 


117 


In the darkness Carlo remembered the 
friendliness of her final hand clasp and her 
voice at parting. 

‘‘Remember, if you have it in you to 
become a great artist, it is necessary that 
you feel more deeply and suffer more 
intensely than other men. But the artist 
who allows these emotions to conquer him 
never becomes truly great.” 

Then Carlo dozed a little. Yet in his 
sleep he seemed to be singing the song that 
had restored his courage on that black 
night in the open sea. 

“I will die cheering, if I needs must die; 

So shall my last breath write upon my lips 
Viva Italia.’^ 

Then, once later — it must have been In 
the last hours before daybreak — the young 
Italian believed he heard, although through 
a kind of stupor, the song of the Italian 
nightingale. Yet this was scarcely possible, 
for the nightingale belongs to the south, 
and this was northern Italy. 

However, before the first real light in 
the sky. Carlo was fully awakened by the 


118 


With the Italian Army 


noise of the first guns of the Italian artillery 
firing from the rear. 

They boomed and thundered and 
shrieked, until all life became only a vast 
combination of impossible noises, and all 
the senses only the one sense of hearing. 

With such an awakening Carlo had no 
return of the fear which had haunted him 
through the night. 

In rigid silence he waited like all the 
other soldiers, feeling himself only a human 
machine. Any instant a common com- 
mand would come, then, just as if a finger 
had touched the trigger of his life, he would 
spring forward to follow its bidding. 

Now the captain of his brigade, passing 
along the line of his soldiers, with his 
watch in hand, whispered words of en- 
couragement to his boys, preparing them 
for their moment of action. 

The boys from the first line of trenches 
ahead were already struggling up the steep 
hill, while back in the mountains the Aus- 
trian cannon was returning the cannon- 
ading, crashing like the thunder among Rip 
Van Winkle’s haunted' hills. 


The Italian Singer 


119 


Then, when Carlo’s order to charge 
came, climbing out of his hole, he, too, gal- 
lantly ran forward up the long incline 
together with his companions. 

Truly there was a rain of bullets from 
the mountain top above. And now and 
then a piece of shrapnel bursting fell, dig- 
ing a deep cave in the side of the hill. 

However, the Italian airmen had located 
the enemy’s lines in many days of flying 
over the Austrian intrenchments. 

Therefore the charge of the Italian bri- 
gades up the mountain side was not the 
madness it appeared. Unprepared for 
their attack, and taken by surprise, the 
Austrians many times fired over their heads. 

But Carlo, no longer remembering his 
past fears, and thinking nothing of his 
danger but only of his work as an individual 
soldier, plunged bravely up the mountain. 
Half-way up he began firing at the descend- 
ing Austrian soldiers who were returning 
his charge. 

Several times in the steep climbing he 
stumbled; once he fell. At intervals Carlo 
would kneel to reload his rifle, but never 


120 


With the Italian Army 


once did he falter, or feel the least desire 
to hide or to turn back. 

Instead, shouting and singing ‘‘Viva 
Italia;” with his dark head thrown bravely 
up, he kept gallantly ahead. Other young 
soldiers in his neighborhood following him, 
took up his battle cry. 

Then, all of a sudden, and of course with 
no warning, a gray bullet struck Carlo. 
At the instant he had not much sense of 
pain — only a burning, stinging sensation in 
his throat and a sudden loss of breath. But 
this was because his time of consciousness 
was so short. 

Almost immediately the young Italian 
boy reeled backward and, sliding down the 
hill, his body rested in a deep hole made 
by a bursting shrapnel. 

There was no opportunity for his soldier 
companions to stop to see if he were dead. 
For not until nightfall did the fighting 
cease. Then the Italians had taken many 
hundred prisoners. 

It was after this' that the ambulance men 
went out to do their work of rescue. They 
found Carlo, but for a moment they stood 


The Italian Singer 


121 


arguing whether it were worth while to 
carry him back behind the lines. 

‘‘There isn’t one chance in a hundred,” 
one of the men said. 

“Well, if there is that, we’ll give the 
poor fellow a show,” the other answered. 

So they carried Carlo gently down the 
steep hill. But they need not have been 
so careful, since he felt nothing. 

They left him at the nearest emergency 
hospital, but when they went away again 
were still unaware whether he were living 
or dead. There was not time to find out. 
Other wounded men were waiting up on 
the hill. 


CHAPTER VIII 


A New Patient 

S OME new patients had arrived at the 
American Hospital during the night, 
who had been assigned to the care of 
Nona Davis. 

They had been sent to Florence from 
one of the hospitals nearer the front, in 
order that they might have more attention 
showed them. 

These soldiers were ordinarily expected 
to recover. Therefore they were usually 
difficult patients, and because Nona Davis 
had a reputation for keeping the convales- 
cent men more cheerful and more content 
than most of the other nurses, she was fre- 
quently assigned to this duty. 

However, Nona did not particularly en- 
joy the task, nor did she think she was so 
well fitted for it as her hospital superiors 
considered her. 

It was now summer, and the heat in 
( 122 ) 


A New Patient 


123 


Florence was growing difficult to bear 
when one must be on their feet and at work 
the greater part of each day. 

Nona had not slept very well the night 
before. But this morning, as she came 
into her ward at about nine o’clock when 
her day’s work began, she tried to appear 
as if her own health were a thing no nurse 
ever had to consider. 

The poor fellows who had just arrived 
would probably be worn out from their 
journey, and some of them dissatisfied with 
their change of environment. 

Their particular ward was a long room 
with beds on either side. But it happened 
that there were only six new patients who 
had come in the night before. 

From one of the new beds to the other 
Nona moved quietly. In reality she was 
introducing herself and trying to find out 
as much as she could of the characters of 
the wounded men and the extent of their 
injuries, before starting upon her actual 
work. 

Another nurse, who had since gone off 
duty, had given the wounded men their 


124 


With the Italian Army 


breakfasts. One of the volunteer male 
nurses had helped them with whatever 
toilets they were able to make before the 
morning visit from the doctor. 

So most of the new patients were sitting 
up and appeared remarkably cheerful. 

In her weeks in Florence, Nona had suc- 
ceeded in learning a little more Italian than 
she had known on her departure from New 
York. Nevertheless her efforts to speak 
Italian properly still afforded many of her 
soldier patients so much amusement that 
Nona felt it would be a mistake to learn 
to speak really correctly. 

‘‘Buon giorno, Signora,” was always her 
morning’s greeting from each one of the 
men, and yet Nona had never become so 
well accustomed to this simple expression, 
which only means, ‘‘good morning,” that 
she failed to be conscious of its musical 
sound. 

Lying over at the farthest end of the 
room, with one side of his bed alongside the 
wall, Nona had immediately discovered one 
of the newcomers among the wounded, who 
must be in a worse condition than the rest. 


A New Patient 


125 


For he was not sitting up and his back was 
turned so that he faced the wall. But 
she did not go to him until she had spoken 
to the other men. 

However, at her ‘‘Buon giorno, Signor,” 
he moved so that he could look at her. He 
turned listlessly, and yet not as if the move- 
ment caused him any especial pain. 

For an instant Nona stared rather too 
closely for politeness. 

Then she said so tactlessly that she was 
ashamed of herself at the same moment. 

‘‘Why, is it you, Mr. Navara.^ I didn’t 
know you for a second. Still, although I 
am awfully sorry you have been hurt, I 
am glad you are here in Florence where my 
friends and I can help to care for you.” 

“Oh, I am — not so — very — badly off; I 
shall soon cease — to give — a great — deal of 
trouble, but it — is pleasant — to find — you 
her,” the young Italian answered slowly. 

Nona noticed that his voice was hoarse 
and that he spoke with painful difficulty. 

“I am glad of that,” Nona returned 
cheerfully. “I shall tell Madame Valesky; 
I know she will be interested. She is living 


126 


With the Italian Army 


in a villa near Florence and, perhaps you 
would allow her to come to see you.” 

But Carlo shook his head. 

‘‘It will — not be — ^worth while. You see, 
I cannot — ^talk to — any one — except — for a 
little time. It is — my voice, — you — under- 
stand, that is gone!” 

At this the boy — ^he was not much more 
than a boy, pulled open his shirt, which 
had been fastened close about his throat. 
Then Nona saw, zigzagging across his neck 
and chest, a long white scar. 

Moreover, Carlo looked at her with his 
brown eyes wide open and staring, but 
without a tremor of his eyelids or a quiver 
of his boyish mouth. 

Yet Nona did not answer him. For 
suddenly she felt that she could endure the 
sorrow which this terrible war had brought 
and was hourly bringing into the world 
not a moment longer. 

She had seen worse things in these past 
two years, perhaps heard sadder stories 
than Carlo’s. But today it may be her 
nerves were worn out or she was more tired 
than usual. 


A New Patient 


127 


For she now found herself fighting the 
impulse to cry out in rebellion against the 
news which this poor boy had just confided 
to her. Why should his hurt come in the 
one place that would make all his future 
desolate for him ^ 

Nona knew she murmured something 
about hoping he might be mistaken and 
that surely something could be done for 
him later. Then she knew that she turned 
quickly away and almost ran out of the 
ward into the comparative seclusion of the 
hall. 

Once out there, she allowed the rebel- 
lious tears to run unchecked down her face. 
Yet remembering where she was, she 
clenched her hands together, so that she 
would make no outward sound. 

It was thus Dr. Latham found her. 

‘^What is the matter. Miss Davis?” he 
demanded more brusquely than he often 
spoke to Nona. ‘‘If you are having an 
attack of nerves you had best go to your 
room. I have been telling you recently 
that you were overworking and must rest. 
We have too much on our hands here to 
have our nurses break down.” 


128 


With the Italian Army 


Which speech made Nona just sufficiently 
angry to brace her up, and this was prob- 
ably what Dr. Latham intended. 

However, she told him what she had just 
heard. 

‘Ht seems so terrible to me that the boy 
must keep on living. Dr. Latham, with his 
wonderful gift gone. He once told me that 
his mother and father kept a little Italian 
fruit shop in New York. I suppose that is 
all Carlo has left to look forward to now — 
tending the little shop — instead of fame 
and wealth and happiness.’’ 

‘‘There are many of us who must give 
up our dreams. Miss Nona,” the big doctor 
answered grimly, but Nona did not feel 
that he was unsympathetic. 

“I’ll see the young fellow,” he added the 
next instant. ‘T am sorry I was a bit hard 
on him all for nothing but an attack of 
nerves. Certainly he has given his best 
to his country. But the"^ main thing just 
now. Miss Nona, is that you must have a 
rest. A few weeks ago we would not have 
had you breaking down over one boy’s 
story, no matter how tragic! Better get 


A New Patient 


129 


your belongings- together. I am going to 
see about your being allowed a holiday 
and telephone out to your friend, Madame 
Vales ky, to expect you.’’ 

“But I am not willing to leave. I have 
just told Carlo Navara I wanted to help 
take care of him. Perhaps I could be just 
a tiny bit of help to him right now,” Nona 
protested. 

Dr. Latham frowned. 

“Wait until I have seen the young fellow. 
Perhaps we may be able to arrange for 
his comfort as well. If he can be moved, 
don’t you think your friend would take 
him in?” 

But Nona could only shake her head in a 
kind of faint-hearted protest at the doctor’s; 
unexpected program. It really did sound 
too agreeable for her to feel sure that it 
would not mean unfaithfulness to her duty. 

However, forty-eight hours afterwards, 
Nona found herself comfortably settled at 
Sonya’s lovely villa and occupying the bed- 
room adjoining her friend’s. Such details 
as securing her holiday from her work at 
the hospital — even to the Informing of 


130 


With the Italian Anny 


Sonya when to expect her — ^had been carried 
out by the doctor. 

Moreover, he also appeared to have in- 
fluenced Sonya to consent that the young 
Italian musician be sent out to the Villa 
Felice as soon as he was able to be moved 
from the hospital. 

As a matter of fact, Sonya had not the 
heart to refuse this second request. She 
was too deeply distressed by hearing of 
the boy’s tragedy not to wish to do what- 
ever was in her power to help. That in so 
short a time Carlo should accidentally have 
made so many appeals upon her, made 
him seem in a way her responsibility. But 
it would be little that an outsider could do 
to make him happier. 

To Carlo Navara the loss of his exquisite 
voice and all that it would have meant 
toward securing a great future, was a mis- 
fortune too great for any stranger to offer 
consolation. 

However, Sonya realized that, as she 
was to have Nona with her at the same 
time, the two of them together could 
surely make life a little pleasanter for Carlo 
than if he were left at the hospital. 


A New Patient 


131 


But she was glad to have Nona to her- 
self for a few days, before admitting any 
one else into her oddly complicated house- 
hold. 


CHAPTER IX 


An Odd Household 

O NE morning about a week later, a 
little before noon, Nona, seeing the 
door of the drawing-room at the 
villa partly open, slipped quietly in. 

She was warm and a little exhausted and 
this room, with its dark old walls, its faded 
colors and soft lights, was always restful 
both to one’s nerves and body. 

Nona felt much better since her visit to 
Sonya, but not yet so well as she ordinarily 
did. Perhaps she had been more worn out 
than she or any one else, except Dr. Latham, 
had suspected; or perhaps her stay with 
Sonya had been slightly disappointing. 

For one thing, three days after her own 
arrival. Carlo Navara had also appeared 
at the villa. He was not supposed to have 
been sent out so soon and was hardly well 
enough to leave the hospital, but Dr. Lat- 
ham had telephoned that the boy’s de- 

( 132 ) 


An Odd Household 


133 


pression had gotten on everybody’s nerves 
— even at a hospital where one was supposed 
to become accustomed to other people^s 
sorrows. 

But, except to answer questions in mono- 
syllables, Carlo had never spoken since 
Nona’s conversation with him. 

He had talked very little since his arrival 
at Sonya’s. However, since talking was 
so difficult for him, neither Sonya nor Nona 
were anxious for him often to make the 
attempt until he grew stronger. 

But otherwise he appeared entirely pa- 
tient and grateful, and, whatever he may have 
been feeling, for the present made no com- 
plaints. He spent most of the time in his 
own room, lying quietly upon the bed with 
his face to the wall, as he had when Nona 
first discovered him. Only now and then, 
because Sonya insisted, he would permit 
himself to be wheeled out on the piazza of 
the villa and lie there in his chair with his 
eyes closed, or else staring with no expres- 
sion of interest at the enchanting summer 
landscape. 

Dr. Latham had insisted that he be kept 


134 


With the Italian Army 


in the sunshine as much as possible, for he 
had been a number of weeks in a hospital 
nearer the frontier before being sent on to 
Florence. 

For the past hour Nona had been in the 
kitchen of the villa trying to cook some- 
thing to tempt Carlo’s appetite. In help- 
ing to take care of him she felt that she was 
still going on in a small measure with her 
work, even while supposedly taking a 
holiday. 

Of course Sonya did not wish her to do 
such tiresome work at such a time and 
when the heat was so great. But there 
seemed no one else. Sonya did not know 
how to do invalid’s cooking, and Nona had 
taken the training as a part of her Red 
Cross work. And while Nannina — Sonya’s 
housekeeper — ^was an excellent cook after 
the Italian fashion, the dishes she prepared 
were not what Nona considered the proper 
ones for an invalid. 

So Nona was trying to make herself believe 
that it was the fact that she was continuing 
to keep busy, when she was not feeling 
well, that kept her half-way depressed and 
half-way cross. 


An Odd Household 


135 


Nona really knew the truth. It was not 
the presence of Carlo in Sonya’s household 
who annoyed her, but Bianca’s. For two 
days after her own arrival Nona had made 
up her mind that she did not like Bianca — 
nor did she like Sonya’s interest, almost 
her affection, for the younger girl. 

This morning, entering the sitting-room 
at the villa, and expecting to find it empty, 
Nona was immediately aggravated to be- 
hold Bianca already there. 

She was seated in a high, carved chair, 
dressed in a delicate pink muslin and em- 
broidering on a square of white linen. 

She looked so cool and serene it was small 
wonder that Nona, who was hot and tired, 
became irritated. 

Surveying Bianca she had a mental pic- 
ture of herself, with a big apron over her 
cotton dress — for she was not wearing her 
nurse’s uniform at the villa — ^her face 
flushed and perspiring and her hair flying. 

Then she knew that Sonya was trying to 
induce Carlo to allow her and the young 
Italian peasant boy, who came to help him 
dress and undress, to take him outdoors. 


136 


With the Italian Army 


Fortunately there was a small sitting-room 
on the ground floor which Sonya had 
adopted as a bed-room for her invalid guest. 

Finally Nona recalled the vision of Nan- 
nina — Bianca’s mother — ^when she had last 
seen her in her kitchen a few moments 
before. Nannina had been scrubbing and 
was in the state to which this occupation 
ordinarily reduces one. Moreover, she was 
preparing luncheon at the same time; 
which meant that she kept getting up from 
her knees on the back porch and coming 
into the kitchen to hang over the stove for 
a moment and then go back to her task. 

No wonder Nona felt the contrast so 
keenly. 

She had never before spoken to Bianca 
in the least disagreeable fashion, although 
she had several times felt inclined to do so. 

Now she said rather sharply: 

‘‘Well, Bianca, it seems to me that you 
might And something more useful to amuse 
you — at least during the morning — than 
embroidering, considering how busy the 
rest of us must be.” 

In reply Bianca merely glanced calmly 


An Odd Household 


137 


up with that quiet, detached air, which 
Nona was finding constantly more aggra- 
vating. 

‘‘I don’t know what I could do that is 
more useful. Eugino is needing new linen. 
His has worn out while at camp. I have 
always marked his things ever since I was 
a little girl. Besides, I have told you that 
my mother will not allow me to assist in 
the rough work. And your friend, Madame 
Sonya, understands this and has agreed 
that I go on living here as I have done in 
the past, otherwise my mother would not 
remain with her.” 

Bianca spoke very gently and politely, 
but somehow this did not make Nona feel 
any differently. Moreover, what Bianca 
said was entirely true. And this was one 
of Nona’s secret grievances. 

Some days before, Sonya had told her 
about the same thing. However, after 
being in the house twenty-four hours, no 
one need be told. 

Bianca occupied the same pretty bed- 
room across the hall from Sonya’s, which 
had been hers in the days of the Donna 


138 


With the Italian Army 


Elizabetta, ate her meals at the table with 
Sonya, waited upon by her own mother, 
and accepting the situation as though it 
were a matter of course. 

Somehow the whole situation jarred upon 
Nona. It was not that she felt herself 
superior in any possible way to Bianca. 
This was not the question. What Nona 
resented most was Bianca’s cool acceptance 
of her mother’s self-denial and unreason- 
able devotion. 

Nona spoke of this fact to Sonya, and 
Sonya agreed with her. 

‘‘But, dear,” she explained, “we have to 
excuse Bianca a little because she has never 
known anything else. It seems that her 
mother has insisted that she occupy a 
different position from herself ever since 
the child’s babyhood, and the family here 
at the villa must have agreed. The fact 
is that Bianca really is so different it is 
hard to believe Nannina is her own mother. 
But I’m sorry you do not like the child’s 
living here so intimately with us. I didn’t 
know, Nona, that you were ever to be with 
me, when I allowed it, and Bianca is really 


An Odd Household 


139 


very sweet and helpful to me in a good 
many ways.” 

But, because all of this speech of Sonya’s 
was so true, this did not make it the more 
agreeable to Nona. 

She had noticed almost at once just how 
useful Bianca made herself to Sonya in the 
gentle, most subtle, fashion. 

She always appeared to know what book 
Sonya wished to read; what chair she 
might like to occupy, and where it should 
be placed. She brought the older woman 
flowers and arranged them in a lovely 
fashion in every room in the villa. Besides, 
she was as fragrant and as ornamental as a 
flower herself, and was never out of temper, 
or impatient. Moreover, Bianca seemed, 
without obtruding the fact, grateful to 
Sonya and deeply admiring of her. 

By contrast Nona could not but appre- 
ciate her own deficiencies in her relation 
to her friend. 

There were so many things Bianca did 
for Sonya which she had never thought to 
do in the past year they had lived together. 
Moreover, she and Sonya had more than 


140 


With the Italian Army 


once had differences of opinion and Nona 
had made no effort to hide her point of 
view. She was devoted to Sonya, of course, 
and expected her to understand it; but, 
after all, Sonya owed her no possible obliga- 
tion, except that their mothers had once 
been friends. If she wished to care for 
Bianca as much — or more than she cared 
for her — she had every right. 

It was true that Nona had done all she 
could for Sonya in those tragic days in 
Russia, when Sonya’s liberty and life were 
both in danger. But no one wishes to 
secure affection through the remembrance 
of past favors. 

There was another point concerning 
Bianca in which Nona and Sonya also 
failed to agree. This struck Nona as 
serious, but evidently Sonya felt there 
must be a possible simple explanation. 

Soon after her arrival at the villa, Nona 
had apologized to her friend for having 
gone alone with Eugino Zoli to look at his 
studio. 

But Sonya had appeared surprised. 
When Nona spoke of Bianca’s having come 


An Odd Household 


141 


with the message that she return to the 
villa immediately, Sonya shook her head. 

‘‘Dear, you must have misunderstood in 
some way what Bianca said to you. How 
could I have had any way of knowing where 
you were since I had not stirred from the 
lawn and none of the others came back 
before you did? However, I am just as 
glad you did misunderstand Bianca, for I 
do not like your having been in the studio 
alone. Italy is not the United States and, 
even there, you should have had a chap- 
eron.” 

As Nona did not wish to argue this ques- 
tion, she said nothing more. Nevertheless 
she was not at all convinced that she had 
misunderstood Bianca’s message. As a 
matter of fact, she was sure she had not. 
But what reason could Bianca have for 
wishing her to come back to the villa? 
And how did she know where to look for 
her, when she had remained on the lawn 
with Sonya and Dr. Latham and the 
Princess ? 

The circumstance was something of a 
mystery to Nona, but she had made up 


142 


With the Italian Army 


her mind that Bianca might prove a mystery 
in more ways than one. Just because she 
looked so gentle, and suggested such entire 
simplicity, all the more difficult she might 
be to fathom. 

‘‘You seem very fond of Signor Eugino,” 
Nona remarked at this moment. 

She was annoyed at this, too, because 
she had no idea of making this speech to 
Bianca at this moment. 

The younger girl looked up. 

“Of course I am. I am more fond of 
him than of any one in the world, now the 
Donna Elizabetta is gone.’^ 

“More than of your own mother?” 
Nona expostulated. 

And this time Bianca did flush slightly. 

“Oh, the case is different. It has been 
my mother’s choice that I should have as 
little as possible to do with her. I do not 
understand the reason any better than you 
do. But it has been like this ever since I 
could remember.” 

Nona had dropped down in a chair and 
was idly turning over the pages of an Italian 
newspaper. 


An Odd Household 


143 


‘‘I don’t suppose it has been so very 
difficult for you, has it, Bianca? But it 
must be a pleasure to you that your foster 
brother is having so long a leave. If he 
comes this afternoon, suppose you see him 
alone. You may tell him that I am too 
tired for a walk. It is not necessary, I 
presume, for me to act as your chaperon. 
It is only best that you should be mine.” 

“I have not meant to annoy you,” 
Bianca answered slowly, her face now 
almost concealed by being bent toward her 
sewing. 

“Oh, you have not annoyed me,” Nona 
returned carelessly; “only I have not been 
able to help noticing that you preferred 
being with Signor Zoli more than with 
Paulo. I suppose that is why you came 
to seek for us that afternoon at the studio.” 

But before Bianca could reply, Nona 
became conscious that Sonya was standing 
in the doorway and frowning upon her. 

“I am surprised at you, Nona,” she 
said slowly. “I could not help overhear- 
ing your last speech. Please don’t quarrel. 
Then she turned to the other girl. “I 


144 


With the Italian Army 


wonder, Bianca, if you would mind going 
out and reading to Carlo for a little while. 
Your Italian must be a pleasure to him 
after Nona’s and mine, which is so im« 
possible.” 

Then, when Blanca had gone quietly 
away, Sonya lingered as if she expected 
Nona to say something in answer to her 
reproach. 

However, Nona pretended not even ta 
see her. 

A little later, going on up-stairs to her 
room, Nona made up her mind that she 
would not remain long at the Villa Felice 
unless a number of things were altered. 


CHAPTER X 


A Conversation 

B ianca went down the stone path- 
way and out on to the road which 
ran along in front of the villa. 

She was wearing the same pale pink 
frock and a large hat encircled with a 
wreath of pink flowers. She also had on 
gloves and carried a white parasol. 

Perhaps to most American girls Bianca’s 
care of her personal appearance would 
have seemed an absurd vanity. But the 
little Italian girl had been brought up in 
this fashion. She had been taught that, 
to keep her delicate skin from the hot sun 
and wind, to wear pretty clothes and to 
preserve her little air of daintiness and 
aristocracy, was her chief business in life. 
For, while her peasant mother asked npne 
of the natural things of her which most 
mothers might reasonably expect of a 
daughter, she had been very insistent that 

( 145 ) 


L 10 


146 


With the Italian Army 


the particular rules, which she had deter- 
mined upon, be obeyed. 

And Bianca was secretly a little afraid 
of the dark, gaunt woman, who had never 
taken her into her confidence in any way, 
and seemed so much less like her own 
mother than the Donna Elizabetta who 
had been only her friend. 

Bianca commenced walking in the direc- 
tion which she expected her foster brother, 
Eugino, to take. For the road she had 
chosen lay between the Villa Felice and the 
home of the Princess Carnia, where he and 
Paulo had been guests. 

As Paulo’s leave was over he had re- 
turned to the Italian army on the upper 
Isonzo. But Eugino had not sufficiently 
recovered from his injury to resume his 
aerial work and was staying on from day 
to day, hoping to be told by his physician 
that he might return to the Italian front. 
He had been injured internally by a fall, 
so that his recovery must of necessity be 
slow'. But there was nothing to prevent 
his going about his ordinary affairs. 

Therefore Eugino had been in the habit 


A Conversation 


147 


of walking to his studio, not far from his 
own old home, and working there each 
afternoon for as many hours as he felt in 
the mood. 

Occasionally he would stop along the 
way and have tea with Sonya and Bianca, 
for tea is almost as established a custom 
in Italy as in England. 

However, Bianca had observed that, 
since Nona’s arrival at the Villa Felice 
about a week before, Eugino had come to 
the villa every day for some reason or 
other. Bianca was sure of this because, as 
Nona had said, she had been careful to 
remain with Eugino during each visit. 

She noticed him now at some distance 
away, walking slowly. 

Eugino would be surprised on seeing her, 
as she was not allowed to leave the grounds 
of the villa, unless an older person were 
with her. 

Eugino seemed to be thinking deeply. 
He looked very old and impressive to 
Bianca. He had always seemed so, but 
more especially in the last year since the 
Donna Elizabetta’s death, and since he had 


148 


With the Italian Army 


developed the small foreign beard and been 
away at the war front for a year. 

As a matter of fact, Eugino was one of 
the few persons for whom Bianca had any 
deep feeling. 

‘‘Why this honor, Bianca?” he now 
asked, with his usual careless good nature, 
when he at last caught sight of her. 

“I was going up to the villa, in any case, 
to ask Miss Davis if she would walk down 
to the studio with me and stay until tea 
time.” 

“Miss Davis told me to tell you, if you 
should ask for her, that she would be busy 
this afternoon. Besides, Eugino, I don’t 
think Madame Sonya would like her to 
be in the studio alone with you,” Bianca 
answered, in her gentle but self-possessed 
fashion. 

“What reason have you for thinking 
that, Bianca? If it were true. Miss Davis 
is quite capable of telling me herself. Be- 
sides, you could be with us, if Madame 
Sonya prefers. It seems to me that you 
are with us most of the time anyway,” the 
young man said, as if the fact had just 
occurred to him. 


A Conversation 


149 


He began walking a little more rapidly, 
but Bianca kept beside him. 

Suppose we go straight to the studio 
then, Eugino, as Miss Davis does not wish 
to see you,” Bianca went on with the de- 
termination of most quiet people. Indeed, 
this was her real purpose in coming out to 
meet her foster brother. She wished a 
talk alone with him. 

“I can pose for you, if you like. You 
used to like me to pose for you very often.” 

“I like it now, Bianca,” Eugino replied, 
glancing at the little girl, with a kind of 
critical, brotherly affection. ‘‘You know 
you are an extraordinarily pretty child, 
Bianca.” 

Bianca flushed slowly. Her face rarely 
betrayed much expression, but she did not 
look so pleased as one might expect at this. 

“I am not a child, Eugino; I wish very 
much that you and everybody else would 
stop thinking of me as one. I am nearly 
sixteen, and because I happen to be small 
does not make me young. I suppose I 
shall never be very large. 

“A Princess in Miniature, Bianca.^” 


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With the Italian Army 


‘^No, I am not a Princess, Gino; I wish 
I were, because, then, if I were only rich 
enough, you might marry me.’’ 

Eugino Zoli stopped and turned around. 

‘^What an amazing thing for you to say 
to me, Bianca! If you were not a child it 
would be perfectly inexcusable. Of course 
you do not know what you are talking 
about, but, nevertheless, never say a thing 
like that again.” 

The young man spoke as severely as he 
knew how, but was really too surprised to 
be as forcible as he felt Bianca’s extraor- 
dinary remark justified. 

Nevertheless she went on with perfect 
serenity. 

‘‘I don’t know why you should be so 
surprised, or so amazed, Gino. The Donna 
Elizabetta used to tell me that she hoped 
either you or Paulo would marry me some 
day, if only one of you could get hold of 
a fortune. She said it might be very hard 
for me to marry well with Nannina for a 
mother and knowing nothing of my own 
history. But she thought that you and 
Paulo would not care, as you both knew 
how much she loved me.” 


A Conversation 


151 


‘‘Well, she certainly did that, Bianca,’’ 
Engine agreed, “more, I have sometimes 
thought, than she did either Paulo or me. 
But that was because she always wanted 
a daughter. I presume that is why she 
, wished to hold on to you,” he ended more 
leniently, as if he really were talking with 
a child. For to Eugino there seemed no 
other explanation, except that Bianca had 
not realized what she had said. 

She walked on now for a short time with- 
out speaking, appearing just as delicate and 
flower-like and untroubled as before. 

Eugino had a moment of feeling a trifle 
sorry for Bianca. Her position was difficult 
and he and Paulo had been pretty careless 
concerning her since his mother’s death. 
But, somehow, the war made one forget 
one’s smaller duties. Moreover, he had 
never been in sympathy with this whole 
business concerning Bianca. Yet, after all, 
she was as delicately pretty as a Dresden 
picture. One could scarcely imagine the 
child in anything except refined surround- 
ings. 

Then Eugino began thinking of another 


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With the Italian Army 


person who interested him more than his 
foster sister. 

However, Bianca appeared determined 
not to be ignored today. 

Ordinarily she was quiet and unobtru- 
sive, but evidently something had aroused 
her to unexpected expression. 

^‘Gino, if you know anything about me, 
I think you ought to tell me about myself. 
It isn’t fair. No one supposes I have any 
brains, or ever think about anything, when 
I really think' a great deal. So much of the 
time there seems nothing else for me to do. 
Nannina talks about getting a lot of money 
for me some day, when everything will be 
just as I wish it. But I can’t imagine 
where she expects to get money, doing the 
kind of work she does. Then I shall not 
always meet people so kind as the Signora 
Sonya. She is very wonderful and kind, 
but other people don’t understand and 
don’t like me, because of the way I treat 
Nannina and — and for other reasons.” 

Bianca hesitated an instant just as she 
concluded her speech. 

She and her foster brother had left the 


A Conversation 


153 


road which led up to the villa and were 
going along an enclosed path which was 
more direct to the studio. 

Certainly Bianca had delivered Nona’s 
message faithfully, so that the young man 
had given up the idea of trying to see her 
for this afternoon at least. 

‘‘Oh, you think entirely too much about 
yourself, Bianca. Most of us do, for that 
matter. But these things, which worry 
you — ^you had better talk over with your 
mother. She is the proper person to decide 
what should be done about you. But I’ll 
try to have a talk with her myself before 
I go back to the front,” Eugino replied. 

As a matter of fact, Eugino Zoli felt a 
little conscience smitten as well as sorry for 
Bianca. It was true his mother always had 
seemed exceptionally fond of her, and had 
not only expected, but requested, that he 
and Paulo do all that was possible for her. 
But Eugino had no idea of anything he 
might be able to do. If he had money that 
would of course be another matter. But 
he and Paulo were both ridiculously poor.' 
And there was really no way for him to 


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With the Italian Army 


acquire money except in the fashion Bianca 
had suggested. This question of marrying 
money did not strike the young Italian 
artist as it would most Americans. Foreign 
marriages, which were an exchange of 
money for something else supposed to be 
of equal value, were far too common. 

Moreover, Eugino had no illusion about 
his profession. He knew that compara- 
tively few artists ever make a comfortable 
living, and that only now and then one of 
them makes a fortune — and that usually 
after he is dead. Most of the money in 
art these days goes to the repurchasing of 
pictures by old masters — not to the buying 
of masterpieces by the young artists. 

But because Eugino had been disap- 
pointed at not seeing Nona, and because 
Bianca had herself made the suggestion and 
he did not wish to show a lack of gratitude, 
he decided to try a sketch of her. 

It was a hot midsummer afternoon, so 
they remained outdoors, but not far from 
the studio. 

Bianca sat listlessly in a tall chair against 
a background of wild grape vines, her para- 


A Conversation 


155 


sol open, upon which the vines made float- 
ing, soft green shadows. 

Her face under its big white hat was also 
partly in shadow, but one saw the tiny 
point of her delicate chin, her fair hands 
clasped loosely in her lap, and her slender 
ankles and small feet. She also wore that 
same little serious, far-away expression 
which so often made people misunderstand 
her. 

For truly Bianca was by no means so 
unconscious of the world and the circum- 
stances surrounding her as she was supposed 
to be. 

As he painted her, Eugino continued 
to become more and more impressed by 
Bianca’s delicate prettiness. It was odd, 
but in some way she was more grown up 
than he had appreciated. It was probably 
because he had grown so accustomed to 
her that he had not noticed the change. 

Now and then he and Bianca talked a 
little while he worked. 

‘H wonder why Miss Davis did not wish 
to see me this afternoon?” Eugino asked. 
‘‘Had she any especial engagement?” 


156 


With the Italian Army 


‘‘I think she intended to try to amuse the 
young fellow who is staying with Madame 
Sonya, but I am not sure,” Bianca returned. 
And then, after another moment: “You 
like Miss Davis very much, don’t you, 
Eugino? It is funny, but you like so many 
different girls. People think it is Paulo 
who cares, while you are always laughing 
and indifferent. Yet it was always about 
you the Donna Elizabetta used to worry.” 

Eugino laughed good-naturedly. 

“It seems to me, Bianca, that you are 
thinking and talking too much about my 
affairs this afternoon. Suppose you stop 
before I am annoyed. For a young lady 
who has been brought up not to express 
her opinions before older persons, you have 
done pretty well today.” 

So Bianca ceased talking and sat in the 
demure silence which had always been 
required of her. 

She was sitting like this and Eugino was 
hard at work, when suddenly they both 
heard some one striding toward them. 

Bianca looked up and turned a little 
pale. It was her mother, Nannina. 


A Conversation 


157 


It was strange that she should always have 
this little fear of her. Nannina had been 
harsh, but never cruel. But Bianca was 
one of the unaccountable persons one meets 
now and then, who is sometimes very 
timid and then unexpectedly brave. 

‘‘So this is where you are,” she said 
angrily to Bianca. “I thought as much 
when I learned you had disappeared.” 

She took Bianca by the shoulder and but 
for Eugino might have been rough with her. 

“Have I not told you that you are not 
to go away from the villa alone?” 

Then she turned to Eugino. 

“The Signora told me if I found you 
at the studio to ask you to come and have 
tea with them. She thinks perhaps you 
may help with the invalid. Why she should 
worry over one young man — a stranger — 
when there are so many who suffer?” 

Nannina spoke with a queer indifference. 
But Eugino paid no attention, except to be 
pleased by Sonya’s invitation. 

He had been accustomed to the queer 
peasant woman all his life. He knew she 
was odd and fierce and had strange ideas, 


158 


With the Italian Army 


and, moreover, that her behavior toward 
Bianca seemed to be beyond explanation. 
However, she had always been an excellent 
servant, and he had thought very little 
about her in any other connection. 

“Don’t be cross with Bianca, Nannina, 
although you are right; she must not go 
about alone. But see what a lovely picture 
I have made of her.” 

Eugino picked up his canvas and as 
Nannina looked at it an intense expression 
of pride and pleasure crossed her face. 

The next moment the three of them were 
returning to the Villa Felice. 


CHAPTER XI 


The Same Afternoon 

O N that same afternoon it is true that 
Nona did offer to spend the time 
after luncheon with Carlo and to 
try if possible to keep him amused, in order 
that Sonya might be free. 

Sonya agreed and slipped away to her 
own room. Soon after Nona went out on 
the piazza and, sitting down near the young 
soldier, began reading him the New York 
newspapers, which she had received un- 
expectedly from Barbara Thornton that 
same morning. 

For a while it appeared as if Carlo were 
listening and was interested. 

One had to judge by the expression of 
his eyes, since he so rarely spoke. 

But, after a quarter of an hour or more, 
whenever Nona glanced toward him, she 
could see that he was scarcely conscious 
of her presence and certainly not of her 
reading. 


( 159 ) 


160 


With the Italian Army 


Yet Dr. Latham had insisted that the 
one thing necessary for his recovery was to 
rouse the invalid from his depression. 

Of her own lack of success in this direc- 
tion, Nona was painfully convinced. 

She stopped for an instant to rest her 
voice and to wonder if there were not 
something else she could do that might 
prove more availing, when Carlo began 
speaking to her. 

He spoke in such a low voice and so 
brokenly that Nona had to lean toward 
him to hear. 

‘‘You — are — tired. Something — troubles 
— you. Go — away — to — rest. Perhaps — 
I — shall — sleep, if — I — am — alone.” 

Afterwards he closed his eyes and, when 
Nona had watched him for a short time, 
she believed he really had fallen asleep. 
So, asking Nannina to look out on the 
piazza every now and then to see if things 
were all right, she decided to lie down for 
half an hour or so. She was a little 
ashamed of the mood she had been in all 
day and hoped being alone and resting 
might make a difference. 


The Same Afternoon 


161 


Somehow Carlo’s patience and dignity 
under his great misfortune seemed a kind 
of unconscious reproach to one. It was 
not that one could feel he had accepted his 
affliction, but whatever he felt so far he 
had been unwilling to discuss it. 

Passing Bianca’s door and not knowing 
she had already gone out, Nona had a 
moment of thinking she would go in and 
be more friendly with her. 

She had been extremely cross. More- 
over, the fact that Bianca was kept from 
knowing anything of her own history should 
have made one sympathetic with her, not 
annoyed. Nona remembered how much the 
mystery concerning her own mother had 
troubled her girlhood, until her chance 
meeting with Sonya and Sonya’s explana- 
tion to her later. Yet, of course, the cir- 
cumstances were in no way the same. 
What she resented about Bianca was not 
the facts of her history, but the cool fashion 
in which she treated her own mother. 

Moreover, Nona had the impression that 
Bianca was not truthful and that she would 
hesitate at nothing to accomplish her own 


11 


162 With the Italian Army 


ends. She knew it would be impossible to 
make Sonya accept this same opinion — 
or any one else, for that matter — ^because 
Bianca looked so exquisitely young and 
gentle. Moreover, Nona had no real 
authority for her point of view, except a 
quickly developed personal prejudice. 

She concluded, however, not to trouble 
Bianca now, but to try to be kinder and 
more agreeable to her later in the afternoon. 

Nona heard Sonya moving about in the 
bedroom adjoining hers and called out to 
her that their patient wished to sleep. 

“Rest, then, until tea time, Nona dear,” 
Sonya called back. “I am going down 
to the drawing-room a little later and I’ll 
see that Carlo is not neglected.” 

So Nona lay down, intending to take 
a nap. 

But in the most absurd fashion she began 
wondering if Eugino Zoli were coming to 
make a call at the villa at any time during 
the afternoon, and also if Bianca would 
deliver her message. 

If she really were not busy when he 
came, he might think her rude. It would 


The Same Afternoon 


163 


have been simpler merely to have left word 
with Nannina that she was resting and 
hoped to be excused. 

To hawe referred to the fact that Bianca 
had never once left her alone with her 
foster brother, must have made her either 
seem absurd in the younger girl’s eyes, or 
else jealous, which Nona knew was worse 
than absurd. 

After all, why should she have wished to 
be alone with the young Italian soldier, 
who was still a comparative stranger to 
her, in spite of his evident interest and 
friendliness? 

Nona felt that Bianca had rather the 
best of the present situation. Then she 
found herself flushing warmly at the idea 
that Bianca might mention to her foster 
brother what she had said. After all, had 
not the little girl the right ? She had known 
him all her life and was so devoted to him. 

But, somehow, Nona did not feel that 
Bianca’s affection was just what one might 
feel for a big brother. Perhaps Nona had 
recognized something about the little girl 
which none of the other people about her 


164 


With the Italian Army 


had seen. Bianca was growing up; instead 
of being younger than sixteen, as her ap- 
pearance suggested, in some ways she was 
older. But this was natural, because 
Italian girls do grow old very soon. One 
remembers that Juliet was only fourteen, 
yet Juliet was rather uncomfortably pre- 
cocious in her emotions. 

Bianca was simply not so childish as 
people considered her, nor was she so 
unconscious of the strangeness and the pos- 
sible unhappiness of her own position. 

Not long after Nona spoke to her, Sonya 
went down to her drawing room. 

Through the open window she could see 
Carlo lying back in his wheeled chair with 
his eyes closed; but she knew from a slight 
movement which he occasionally made that 
he was not asleep. 

However, Sonya decided not to disturb 
him. First, she wrote several letters to 
old friends in Russia. It was so wonderful 
these days to be able to write freely, to 
have no fear of bringing trouble upon her 
friends by saying what she thought and 
felt. For Russia’s old chains were broken! 


The Same Afternoon 


165 


Now, if only she remained true to her dream 
and forged no new fetters ! 

Then, when Sonya had finished writing, 
she sat down by the piano and began 
playing, at first softly, drifting from one 
air to the other, as if she were merely 
playing to herself. 

But all the while she was conscious of 
the mute figure of the boy outside her win- 
dow — his listlessness and his lack of interest 
in the return to a life, which had already 
robbed him of the only thing for which he 
greatly cared. 

Sonya was a gifted musician and knew 
a great deal of beautiful Russian music, 
music with the passion and the vision of 
the old Russia, struggling out of darkness 
and oppression into the wonderful new 
light of freedom. Small wonder, then, that 
Russian music haunts one as no other! 

Several times Sonya noticed that Carlo 
opened his eyes, staring blindly at the 
exquisite summer landscape of evergreens 
and roses which makes the Italian country 
so lovely. 

Then, when another • ten minutes had 


166 


With the Italian Army 


passed and she looked again, she saw that 
he had bent his head and covered his face 
with his hand. 

For a little while longer Sonya played 
on and then went out to him. 

She stood by his chair for a moment, but 
when he did not look up, laid her hand 
softly on his dark hair. 

Carlo Navara belonged to the familiar 
type of the beautiful Italian peasant. He 
had the white skin, the large dark eyes, 
the straight short nose and the full deeply 
curved lips that one sees in Raphael’s 
cherubs and in Andre del Sarto’s beautiful 
children. 

Sonya felt for the moment as if she stood 
in the place of the boy’s mother, so strangely 
she seemed to have had to offer him en- 
couragement of one kind or another in each 
of their meetings. 

But, although she had not liked the boy 
while crossing the ocean with him, had 
thought him too vain, too assured that his 
musical gift must make him acceptable to 
everybody, she had since grown not only 
to like him, but to feel an odd respect for 
him. 


The Same Afternoon 


167 


The way Carlo had confessed to her his 
nervous fear of himself — the terror that he 
might not have it in him to make a gallant 
soldier — ^had been the first thing which had 
affected her attitude. It is a fine thing 
sometimes to have the courage to confess 
one’s own weakness, when one also has the 
courage to overcome it. 

And Carlo had given his all and lost so 
quickly. 

As Sonya stood there beside him she 
thought of a few lines in a great poem by 
Rudyard Kipling, called ‘‘If.” 

“If we can make one heap of all our winnings, 
And risk it on one game of pitch and toss 
And lose and start again at the beginning 
And never breathe a word about our loss.” 

At least, these were the lines as Sonya 
remembered them. Well, Carlo had risked 
and lost, now, could he ever bring himself 
to start again and still to make something 
out of life from whatever was left him? 
And could she in any way help him toward 
some new beginning? 

Sonya felt almost as hopless as Nona 


168 


With the Italian Army 


had previously, and yet she allowed Carlo 
to cry on, glad at last that his stoicism, 
which Nona had believed to be courage, 
had broken down. 

She knew that he was too young and 
too emotional to go on forever in silence, 
never speaking of his misfortune, nor re- 
ceiving the sympathy he so badly needed. 

After all, it seemed to Sonya as if Carlo 
were young enough to be her son ! 

But, by and by he straightened up and 
took his hand down from his eyes. 

‘‘It was your music, dear lady, or I 
should not have been such an infant.” 

Carlo did not talk like an American boy. 
For one thing, he had begun calling Sonya 
“dear lady,” which sounded very charm- 
ing when coming from him, and yet might 
have been affected in some one else. But 
Carlo was an Italian and an artist. One 
could not expect him to be conventional, 
either in his emotions or in his expression 
of them. 

“I know,” Sonya answered, “and I 
hoped my music might have just the result 
it did have upon you. There are so many 


The Same Afternoon 


169 


worse things, Carlo, dear, than being an 
infant. Besides, why should you always 
hold on to yourself.^ Why should you not 
express your grief over your great loss.^ 
If you will only break down now and then, 
it will help you toward recovery.” 

“But I do not wish to recover,” Carlo 
replied quietly. He did not speak in any 
dramatic heroic fashion, but as if he 
honestly meant what he said. 

“It was so hard to explain to the good 
doctors and nurses at the hospital, who 
worked so hard to make me well,” Carlo 
went on. “But I think I can make you 
see.” 

Then he told his story very much as 
Nona had pictured it to herself on first 
learning of Carlo’s tragedy. 

“I — have no — gifts, no brains — outside 
— my music. I can — make nothing — of my 
life — now that is gone. It will — be only — 
the little fruit shop for me — always, only 
— the company — of people — for whom — I 
shall — never care, having known others so 
different. Others, whom — I had hoped — 
some day — would care for me — because of 
the happiness I — could give them.’ 


170 


With the Italian Army 


Sonya nodded. 

think I can understand — at least in a 
measure — Carlo. But no one who has not 
had a great gift like your’s can wholly 
appreciate what the losing of it must mean. 
But there must be other things. You see, 
most people have to be happy without a 
great talent; sometimes without even a 
little one. Then there are the little father 
and mother at home, who need you.” 

But Sonya could not feel that what she 
was saying interested Carlo. 

“I know,” he answered, quiet and self- 
possessed once more, ^‘but there are other 
— ^younger — children, and they — the little 
— mother — and father — must — lose their 
— ^wonderful pride in me. Somehow — it 
made them feel — happier and more content. 
You — do not know — how we Italians, even 
— the humblest — of us, like I and — my 
people, care for music. Besides — they — 
could — not be glad — seeing — me wretched.” 

‘‘But, Carlo, are you so sure your voice 
may not come back to you again? Even 
in these few days you have spent here with 
me, it seems to both Nona and to me, that 


The Same Afternoon 


171 


when you try you can speak more distinctly. 
As you grow stronger, your voice must 
improve. I do not say there is hope; I 
do not know. But there is other music 
in the world besides one’s voice. When you 
are well enough, if you wish, you and I can 
work here together. Then, when you go 
back to the United States, there will be 
doctors who may be able to do more for 
you. They are so busy here in Italy, you 
see; there are so many to be cared for.” 

Carlo shook his head; nevertheless his 
expression was more cheerful. 

‘‘At — other times — you have — given me 
courage, dear lady, but now — as you — 
cannot do that, you would wish to — give 
me hope.” 

But Carlo appeared more animated than 
he had at any time since his arrival at the 
villa, so Sonya continued talking on less 
personal subjects. 

He spoke only occasionally in response, 
but each time Sonya believed that he spoke 
more easily, with less long pauses between 
his words. Now and then three or four 
words would come quickly and naturally. 


172 


With the Italian Army 


However, Sonya feared that she had 
probably been wrong to offer the boy the 
hope that he might be able to sing again. 
However, how is one to live on without 
hope? And it might be possible that his 
gift for music would one day express itself 
in some other way. 

Just before tea time it occurred to Sonya 
that Carlo might feel weary of so much 
feminine society. 

She knew that Eugino Zoli was probably 
working in his studio. But she did not 
know that Bianca was with him. 

Nona had not yet come down-stairs. 
However, Sonya asked Nannina to try and 
find the young artist and to persuade him 
to come to the villa for tea. 


CHAPTER XII 


A Lack of Caution 

W HEN Nona Davis finally came 
down-stairs and out on to the 
piazza, to her surprise she saw 
Eugino Zoli sitting there talking to Carlo. 

Apparently no one had heard her ap- 
proach. 

She stood for a moment in the doorway 
studying the little group of people. 

Bianca and Sonya were a little apart 
from the two young men, and Bianca 
looked as fresh and fragrant in her pale 
pink dress as she had at the beginning of 
the warm summer afternoon. 

Sonya was attired in a simple lilac muslin 
and had put a big white rose into her belt. 

But Nona did not look at them long. 
Really she was more interested in watch- 
ing Eugino Zoli. 

Up-stairs in her own room, Nona had at 
last confessed to herself that she really 

( 173 ) 


174 


With the Italian Army 


liked the Italian soldier and artist very 
much, when one considered how brief a 
time they had known each other. Also she 
believed he liked her. He had said nothing, 
but there had been in his voice and manner 
a something vaguely flattering and appeal- 
ing. Perhaps Nona did not appreciate 
that there are men who have this charm in 
their manner toward all women, or if she 
did know, Eugino did not create this 
impression. 

She now wondered again if Bianca had 
given him her message. Absurdly she felt 
the least little bit annoyed that Eugino 
had evidently been happy to remain at the 
villa without the prospect of seeing her. 

But he was talking to Carlo in the 
kindest and most sympathetic fashion. 

Certainly Eugino Zoli gave one the im- 
pression of being older than he really was. 
Everybody thought the same thing con- 
cerning him. Nona understood that he 
was only a few years older than she, and 
yet he had the poise of a man of wide 
experience. And Nona thought she had 
grown rather tired of boys. Her two years^ 


A Lack of Caution 


175 


work in Europe in Red Cross nursing often- 
times made her feel as if her own girlhood 
were far behind. So much pain and so 
much fortitude, so much tragedy and yet 
through it all the quality of divine humor, 
such as Dante must have meant to suggest 
in his Divine Comedy, she had seen behind 
the great battle fronts. 

“But you must feel very proud and 
happy to know you have given so much to 
Italy, Signor Navara,” Eugino Zoli was 
saying, with deeper feeling than he gen- 
erally expressed. “It is very splendid to 
me! You were brought up in the United 
States; Italy cannot have meant so much 
to you. With us who have always lived 
here in Italy, the case is very different. 
It is natural that we should wish to give 
our lives gladly to see our country great 
again; to see Italy return to the old splendor 
that was once hers, but with a newer, more 
democratic ideal than the Italy of the past.” 

Then, when Carlo made no reply, Nona 
walked out to join her friends. Immedi- 
ately Eugino Zoli arose, bowing to Nona in 
his perfectly courteous fashion. He showed 


176 


With the Italian Army 


not the least trace of resentment because 
of her having sent him word she did not 
wish to see him during the afternoon. 
Moreover, as he made no reference to this 
fact, Nona found herself vaguely apologiz- 
ing. She could not apologize in any down- 
right fashion, for she did not yet know 
whether Eugino had suggested any wish 
to see her on this particular afternoon. 

“I think I have been feeling rather used 
up by the heat. Anyhow, I have been too 
cross to see any one until now. I am glad 
you are here. Signor Zoli,” Nona said 
frankly, after she had shaken hands; flush- 
ing a little, but at the same time smiling 
half humorously and half with an appeal 
for forgiveness. 

Eugino answered straightforwardly. 

‘‘I should like to have seen you earlier. 
Miss Davis. I wished you to spend the 
afternoon at the studio with me if it were 
possible and would not have bored you. 
But Bianca told me you expected to have 
something else to do.” 

Before Nona could reply, hearing an 
exclamation from Sonya, she glanced up 


A Lack of Caution 


177 


and saw Dr. Latham’s large figure walking 
slowly up their path. 

The American doctor had again come 
uninvited to the Villa Felice. 

Nona had a flash of wondering if after 
all he did not dislike Sonya so much as he 
pretended. But, of course, he had the 
excuse of desiring to see Carlo Navara, who 
was still his patient, although no longer at 
the hospital. 

As soon as the doctor had shaken hands 
with Sonya he turned directly to Carlo. 
As Nona chanced to be standing near, he 
simply smiled his greeting to her, and bowed 
rather brusquely to her companion. 

“Well, Navara, you are looking in much 
better shape than when I saw you last, but 
pretty tired. Have your nurses been too 
devoted.^” 

Carlo shook his head and smiled. He 
and the doctor had become good friends 
and understood each other fairly well by 
this time. 

“Suppose I bundle you off to your room 
and have a talk with you there.” 

But at this Carlo shook his head. 


12 


178 


With the Italian Army 


“If I — could stay — a little longer — until 
— after tea I would not — try to — talk,” 
he answered. 

Dr. Latham listened with his great head 
a little to one side. 

“All right; only half an hour more. 
But you are talking much better, boy, than 
I dreamed you could in so short a time.” 

‘‘You have done wonderful things for 
your patient. Dr. Latham,” Eugino Zoli 
said with his usual courtesy. 

But Dr. Latham shook his head almost 
angrily. 

“I have done nothing at all. Navara 
was almost healed of his wound when he 
came to Florence. I mean the outside 
wound. I had to send him out here to the 
Villa Felice for the wound that went deeper. 
That is what we doctors have been doing 
ever since this war began — healing the 
wounds of the body when we could and 
sending our patients to women for the 
healing we cannot give.” 

The big doctor spoke with such earnest- 
ness and sweetness that Nona felt her eyes 
suddenly swimming in tears. 


A Lack of Caution 


179 


Sonya crossed over to him. 

‘‘Thank you, Doctor,” she said. “But 
I wish some day men would learn not to 
kill one another. We women sometimes 
grow very weary trying to bind up the 
wounds that war has made. Try to make 
the suffering a little less. For all our 
efforts are so unavailing if men will go on 
fighting forever. Oh, I have tried to see — 
tried to be inspired by the great lessons 
this war has taught us — the great results 
it has already achieved. But I still cannot 
believe in war.” 

“No more can I, Madame,” Dr. Latham 
returned grimly. “I wonder, too, how 
many of the men and women engaged in 
this business of trying to heal, do believe 
in it? Some day perhaps ” 

But Eugino Zoli interrupted with a 
sudden change of voice and manner, so 
conspicuous that his companions looked at 
him in surprise. 

“For my own part I hope that the 
making of war may never end. What else 
is there except that we fight for the things 
we hold dear? Death is inevitable. For 
my part I should prefer the soldier’s death.”” 


180 


With the Italian Army 


Again Dr. Latham shook his head. 

‘‘But we were not talking of death, 
young man. However, you Italians are 
all alike — gallant lovers and gallant sol- 
diers.^’ 

Sonya had made a slight movement of 
her hand toward Carlo which had checked 
the seriousness of the American doctor’s 
argument. 

The boy was sitting up with his face 
white and strained. Their argument had 
touched him far too closely. 

Moreover, Nannina came out on the 
piazza at this instant bearing the inevitable 
tea tray. Cakes were a forbidden luxury 
in Italy these days, but Sonya managed 
to supply her guests with tiny sandwiches 
and sweet crackers. 

Eugino and Dr. Latham had sat down 
near each other and were evidently not 
prepared to give up their conversation. 

“The great Italian drive will begin in a 
short time. Dr. Latham, not far from Trieste. 
All winter we have been preparing.” 
Eugino went on, speaking with an earnest- 
ness and enthusiasm which made Nona 


A Lack of Caution 


181 


stare at him with mild amazement. He 
had always seemed to her a casual person, 
perhaps not very earnest about anything, 
except to make himself agreeable and to 
work at his art when he was in the proper 
mood. 

But now his eyes had become steady, 
determined. 

‘‘They need me at the front. Dr. Latham. 
I mean they need all the fellows they can 
get just now to reconnoiter over the lines,’^ 
he went on enthusiastically. ‘‘We have 
been watching the Austrian fellows pretty 
closely. You see, I don’t think the people 
in the United States have ever altogether 
understood how seriously we Italians have 
prepared for our share in the war. There 
have been reasons why we have had to 
wait for our great offensive but in a short 
time — ” 

Sonya was pouring the tea, but she now 
turned around. Nannina was still stand- 
ing behind her chair and seemed to be 
listening. It was but natural that she 
should be interested in what Eugino Zoli 
was saying. 


182 


With the Italian Army 


‘‘You can go now, Nannina,” Sonya 
ordered gently. “There is no need to 
trouble you to help us any further.” 

But the next moment she added: 

“I am sorry, but you seem to have for- 
gotten the lemon. Would you mind get- 
ting it for us ? ” 

It was most unusual, that Nannina 
should be forgetful. She must have been 
worried over something this afternoon, for 
she was forced to go back to her kitchen 
and return a third time before the tea 
service was finally complete. 

However, no one minded waiting, espe- 
cially as Eugino continued talking of the 
Italian war plans. 

“I wish you would take a look at me, 
Dr. Latham, and see if you don’t think I 
am fit to get back to work. My physician 
in Florence is an old friend of my mother’s 
and a little more careful, I think, than he 
need be. It will be a great favor,” he 
urged at length. 

Df. Latham nodded. 

“Very well, if your doctor does not ob- 
ject. But I expect you are too impatient, 


A Lack of Caution 


183 


Zoli. Fve been hearing rumors myself, 
and I’ve an idea it may be several weeks 
before the Italian drive begins. Do you 
not intend to wait until the British Moni- 
tors come to your aid ? ” 

Nona stirred uncomfortably and ex- 
changed a sympathetic glance with Carlo. 

Evidently they both felt that Dr. Latham 
and Eugino were talking far too openly. 
There could be no danger in speaking freely 
here at Sonya’s villa perhaps, but Nona had 
been through so many unexpected experi- 
ences since the war began that she believed 
no one with information of any value could 
be too cautious. 


CHAPTER XIII 


Dangerous Popularity 

I NSTEAD of living at her Italian villa 
in peace and loneliness as she had 
anticipated, as time passed on Sonya 
Vales ky found her home becoming more 
and more a center of a group of interested 
and interesting acquaintances. 

Sonya was a rarely charming woman, 
possessing a wonderful gift as a hostess — 
the ability to make other people talk with- 
out talking a great deal herself. Then, 
too, she was very beautiful and, as she had 
refused to tell anything of her past his- 
tory to her Italian acquaintances, a gentle 
air of mystery surrounded her which is 
always alluring. 

However, a great many of Sonya’s new 
friends developed through the increasing 
intimacy of Eugino Zoli with the tenants 
occupying his own and his brother’s home. 
Eugino had seen Dr. Latham in regard 

( 184 ) 


Dangerous Popularity 


185 


to returning immediately to the Italian 
front. But the American physician’s ver- 
dict had been the same as his own Italian 
physician’s. Eugino was not to be in too 
much of a hurry. Give himself time and 
he would be all right for service again. 
A soldier in the aviation service must be 
always at his best both in body and mind. 
Unlike other soldiers, he had only his own 
judgment and his own initiative to depend 
upon, while at his work. 

As a matter of fact, Eugino Zoli was a 
captain of aviation for the Italian Govern- 
ment. Already on several occasions he 
had distinguished himself and been rapidly 
promoted, until now he was considered one 
of the most talented and daring men in the 
aerial squadron. 

Therefore, the young man was naturally 
impatient over his long inaction. Had he 
been seriously invalided he might have 
regarded the matter differently. But to 
feel almost entirely well, to be able to go 
about his ordinary affairs, and yet not per- 
mitted to get back to the line was tre- 
mendously irksome. 


186 


With the Italian Army 


For Nona Davis was right in her observa- 
tion. However little in earnest Eugino 
Zoli might appear to be about many of the 
other circumstances of life, he was tre- 
mendously in earnest about his work as a 
soldier. 

He proved this to himself in these passing 
weeks by his inability to feel the deep 
interest in his art which he had felt before 
Italy’s entrance into the war. It was true, 
he went to his studio nearly every day for 
a’ time, attempting to get back into serious 
work. But, after a few hours, ^ he was 
more than apt to give up and, whenever 
he felt it possible, stop by for a call at the 
Villa Felice. 

Moreover, he did not always make his 
calls alone. A number of soldiers — friends 
of Eugiho’s — ^were also on leave of absence 
in Florence. And these friends Eugino got 
into the habit of taking to Sonya’s to tea. 

Many of their own Italian friends were 
extremely depressed by the war; most of 
them were actually too poor to be able to 
offer even the simple hospitality of tea, 
except on stated occasions. So it was 


Dangerous Popularity 


187 


pleasant to find a home always open and 
agreeable, with a charming woman as 
hostess and more often than not several 
pretty girls willing — and even more than 
willing — to make themselves attractive. 

So the guests introduced by Eugino were 
afterwards apt to return to Sonya’s alone. 
And, although Sonya was secretly amused 
by the difference between her own plan for 
a quiet summer and the way fate had 
changed the arrangement for her, she ac- 
quiesced with entire good nature. 

For one thing Nona was with her a good 
part of the time and the three other Red 
Cross girls, who had crossed with them, 
whenever they were free from their hospital 
work. And, of course, the American girls 
were naturally interested in the young 
Italian soldiers, whom they were not nurs- 
ing just at present, although there was 
always the possibility that they might be 
at their mercy later on. 

Then Bianca was always there. It was 
difficult to guess how much the young men 
guests interested her, as she was so quiet. 
But, then, Bianca always managed to be 


188 


With the Italian Anny 


most becomingly dressed and to make a 
charming picture of herself, either con- 
sciously or unconsciously. 

It was true that the young soldiers 
usually talked upon subjects outside her 
knowledge. For most of their conversa- 
tion was with regard to the war, as it was 
being fought all over Europe, but more 
especially at the Italian front, where the 
preparations for the long-expected assault 
were now almost completed. 

So closely had the American Red Cross 
girls been in touch with the war through 
their nursing that they could not fail to be 
interested and also to have opinions of 
their own to express. 

There were times when Sonya actually 
felt sorry for Bianca, so set apart did the 
little Italian girl seem from the other young 
people. This was not only because she 
was younger, but because she was evidently 
so ignorant of the entire war situation. 
Nannina had allowed her to do nothing to 
help the war cause except to sew. But 
Sonya observed that Bianca always man- 
aged to have her knitting, or some piece 


Dangerous Popularity 


189 


of Red Cross sewing, in her hands when the 
young Italian soldiers were present. 

However, Sonya’s guests were by no 
means young men only. The Italian 
country people in the neighborhood called 
upon her and seemed to like her very much. 

There was also the Princess Carnia, 
whom Eugino Zoli had Introduced among 
his first friends. He had been a guest at 
her house for a time, but insisting he was 
imposing upon her kindness had afterwards 
gone to board with acquaintances living 
in the same neighborhood. As a matter 
of fact, when Eugino was not at Sonya’s 
at tea time, he was usually with the Prin- 
cess. She was an American girl, as he had 
once explained to Nona, and an old friend. 

They also came to Sonya’s together 
occasionally. Yet it was just possible that 
the Princess was a little annoyed by Sonya’s 
popularity. She was very young and fond 
of society and her home had no rival until 
Sonya rented the villa. Moreover, the 
Princess had no other American girl, ex- 
cept herself, to offer as an attraction, while 
Sonya might have any number from one 
to four. 


190 


With the Italian Army 


Nona Davis, however, was not present 
at all the informal tea parties. For, as 
soon as she had rested and grown a little 
stronger, she began going back to Florence 
to work at the hospital during the day and, 
as a special favor, was allowed to return 
to Sonya at night. 

Sometimes it so happened that she was 
able to get back to the Villa Felice before 
all the guests had departed, if the work at 
the hospital chanced to be a little lighter 
than usual. 

But one evening she drove back from 
Florence to Sonya’s home nearly an hour 
later than was customary with her. She 
had been detained to assist at a difficult 
operation. 

It was already dusk as she passed by the 
now familiar landscape. 

Looking back, Florence was a gray city 
of classic shadows, while closer by the 
countryside was dim and sweet. 

Nona lay back in her ancient carriage, 
relaxing as completely as possible. It was 
the only way in which one could do the 
strenuous work which nursing required, by 


Dangerous Popularity 


191 


learning to give up completely when the 
actual strain was removed. 

But Nona was congratulating herself 
that Sonya’s everlasting group of Italian 
admirers must have departed that after- 
noon before her own return. For, neither 
physically nor mentally, did she feel in the 
humor for being even civil to strange 
visitors. She wanted nothing so much as 
a bath and a bed and a book, and Sonya to 
come up after dinner to talk to her and to 
tell her what had happened at the villa 
during the day — ^whether Eugino had been 
there and if he had left a message for her. 

It was with relief that Nona discovered 
the piazza at the villa was for once empty. 

But as she went up the steps she could 
hear the sound of the piano from the draw- 
ing room. 

Nona knew that Sonya often played to 
Carlo at this hour. In the morning they 
studied music together, but Carlo would 
never play if he supposed any one near. 
He knew something of the piano, of course, 
having learned to accompany his own 
songs, but in only a halting fashion. Be- 


192 


With the Italian Army 


fore he had devoted all his energy and his 
passion to his singing. 

But it was lovely to hear Sonya, and 
Nona felt just what she was in the mood 
for at this time. So she slipped quietly 
into the half-darkened room, hoping that 
no one would be disturbed by her entrance. 

Sonya did not stop playing, nor turn 
around. She had on a soft old white 
muslin which fitted her figure with the 
peculiar elegance which was so character- 
istic of her, and which the Red Cross girls 
had at once noticed in their first meeting 
more than two years before. 

Sonya was playing from memory. Her 
head with its closely coiled hair — now iron 
gray, with the odd streak of pure white 
across the front — ^was thrown a little back, 
since in this way she was less conscious 
of her audience. 

Carlo Navara, who was in his wheeled 
chair, had been placed in such a position 
that he could look directly at Sonya. 

Bianca was not far away, but sitting 
beside some one whom Nona was surprised 
to see. 


Dangerous Popularity 


193 


But at once Eugino Zoli got up and 
directed Nona to a place on the sofa where 
he had been seated. 

“I am going to be here to dinner and 
I wanted particularly to see you. You 
will see me for a little while alone 

Nona nodded agreement. 

Then, after Sonya had finished playing, 
she went up-stairs and dressed for dinner, 
forgetting how tired she had been a short 
time before. 


13 


CHAPTER XIV 


Uncertainty 

my dear Signora, even the 
severest American chaperon 
would agree to this.” 

Sonya looked at her guest steadfastly 
for an instant and then smiled. 

‘‘But I have told you many times that 
I am not an American, Eugino, even if 
Nona is, and you will confuse facts. Be- 
sides, you know you are not an American, 
even if your mother was and you like now 
and then to pose as one. In many ways 
you are the most Italian of persons, and I 
am by no means sure I trust you,” Sonya 
answered with a half humorous, half seri- 
ous inflection in the tones of her voice. 

She and Eugino Zoli were very good 
friends to the point of Sonya’s calling the 
young man by his first name. Moreover, 
she understood the young Italian even 
better than he enjoyed her doing. 

( 194 ) 


Uncertainty 


195 


^‘That is an insult to my country and 
to me, Signora, and only your sex protects 
you after such a speech. But if you’ll do 
as I ask, why — ” Eugino smiled. 

‘‘Oh, Nona may go with you if you’ll 
promise not to walk far away from the 
villa and not to stay out too late.” Sonya 
conceded. “Also, I assure you. Signor 
Eugino, that it is only in matters of the 
heart where I fear your countrymen are 
not always to be trusted. So remember, 
Nona dear, that it is moonlight in Italy 
and Eugino is a gallant soldier — ” 

Sonya laughed, and Nona paid no par- 
ticular attention to what she was saying. 
Indeed, she thought that Sonya’s and 
Eugino’s somewhat stilted conversation was 
the least bit silly and that Sonya’s was 
not altogether in good taste. 

Moreover, she was anxious to be out 
of doors. 

Dinner had been over half an hour at 
the Villa Felice and coffee served some 
time before in the drawing-room. 

Carlo Navara had gone to his own apart- 
ment; although much better, he was still 
an invalid. 


196 


With the Italian Army 


Nona wished that Bianca would occa- 
sionally disappear as well. But Bianca was 
omnipresent, never apparently thinking it 
her place to retire until Sonya’s guests and 
Sonya herself had withdrawn. 

However, tonight the girl might serve as 
a companion for Sonya, if she were lonely, 
which was not probable. For even Bianca 
could not arrange to accompany her foster 
brother on the present occasion. 

Nevertheless, Nona was a little irritated 
by believing she noticed a demure smile 
upon Bianca’s face at Sonya’s last words. 
However, Nona realized that she was 
always a little bit suspicious of the younger 
girl and perhaps not always fair. 

Nona also put on a white muslin dress 
for dinner and wore over her shoulders an 
ivory crepe shawl which belonged to Sonya. 

Finally she and Eugino went out to- 
gether. 

The moon had passed the fullness, but 
was still wonderfully brilliant with a late 
summer radiance. The air was no longer 
filled with the scent of roses, although in 
Italy roses bloom all the year. But tonight 


Uncertainty 


197 


there was a stronger fragrance — ^the odor 
of ripening grapes. For much of the hill 
country about Florence is a vineyard coun- 
try and Sonya’s villa was set in the midst 
of it. 

Nona and Eugino first walked through 
the little garden with its orange and lemon 
trees, and then Eugino found a path which 
at length brought them to a little marble 
bench, not far from what had once been a 
fountain, but was now overgrown with 
vines. 

‘‘This is part of our estate too, so we are 
keeping our word,” Eugino said, as he 
spread out his handkerchief on the stone 
seat. “We have a good deal of land about 
here, but were not able to take proper care 
of it, so it has gone to waste. I believe 
that is the present tragedy of all Italy, so 
much we have that is beautiful and worth 
while and so little money to turn it to 
account.” 

Nona and her companion were both 
seated as Eugino said this. 

Nona hesitated a moment and then an- 
swered quietly: 


198 


With the Italian Army 


‘‘I think I like things best as they are. 
You see, in the past two years I have trav- 
eled so much, having nursed in most of the 
Allied countries since the war began. So 
when other people told me I should be 
overwhelmed by ‘the spell of Italy’ I don’t 
think I quite believed them. However, I 
have been, and I suppose no one can escape 
its glamour. Why, tonight this place 
about us seems like some wonderful dream 
country. You see, I like this ruined part 
of your garden better than the places 
which have been carefully tended. I 
admire that old fountain there with the 
vines half hiding it and that charming 
little boy’s figure with his arms full of real 
green things, far better than I could ever 
like a well-kept fountain — say one of the 
ugly kind we have in so many of our 
American parks. You see, you don’t know, 
Signor Eugino, how inartistic we Americans 
can sometimes manage to be in our coun- 
try,” Nona ended. 

Eugino shook his head. 

“I’m afraid I can think of nothing about 
your country which is not flattering,” he 


Uncertainty 


199 


returned. ‘‘Perhaps, because of my mother 
I have always had a deep interest in the 
United States. But since your entrance 
into this war for the sake of an ideal, with 
nothing to gain and so much to suffer, why 
I don’t mind being considered an enthusi- 
ast. Many other Italians also feel as I 
do and are anxious to have you understand 
us. I think we are even a little jealous, 
because France and England and now the 
new Russia seem in closer touch with you 
than Italy. I wonder if you know Italy 
controls more enemy territory in Europe 
than all the Entente Allies combined. She 
is holding a longer battle front than the 
French, British and Belgian fronts. Her 
long trench line is blasted from solid rock 
and her guns have to be carried from moun- 
tain peak to mountain peak. But forgive 
me for riding my hobby like this. I’m 
sorry. I didn’t come out to talk to you 
about Italy tonight. I believe I came to 
talk about you and perhaps about myself.” 
The tone of the young man’s voice altered. 

“I hope I haven’t bored you too much. 
Truly I did not spend so much time per- 


200 


With the Italian Army 


suading the Signora to let us have this 
hour together to make a patriotic speech. 
You will forgive me?” 

Nona smiled her forgiveness. 

How utterly unlike any one she had ever 
known was her companion ! Yet, somehow, 
his curious mixture of careless good nature 
with his ardent patriotism attracted her 
very much? Or was she not attracted by 
Eugino himself? Is it not rather like a 
girl to think she likes or dislikes certain 
traits in a man’s character, when it is the 
man himself she either likes or dislikes? 

“You see, I am going back to the front 
in a day or so and I wanted to say farewell. 
I have seen my physician today and he at 
last has given his consent. It may be 
tomorrow that I shall go. So I may not 
see you again until I come back, if I ever 
return,” Eugino went on. “One does not 

know ” He spoke with a soldier’s 

careless fatalism. 

But Nona felt a queer little stiffening in 
her throat — the feeling that she cared 
whether Eugino returned more than she 
had any possible right to do. 


Uncertainty 


201 


She looked very fair and sweet with her 
head a little bowed and her pale yellow 
hair bound in close braids shining in the 
silver light with a kind of pale glow. 

Now she pulled Sonya’s shawl a little 
closer about her. 

‘‘I am sorry to have to say good-bye to 
you. Only for your sake, as I know how 
much you have wished to go, I must not 
be sorry.” Nona answered, needing a 
little effort to keep her voice steady. 

‘‘No more sorry than that.^” Eugino 
returned in the voice and manner which 
Nona had never been able to understand. 
Was he in earnest, or was he only pretend- 
ing to care for her that he might leave 
with her a more charming impression? 

“You see, it has meant a great deal to 
me to have known you, and to have you 
living in my mother’s home, more than 
perhaps you dream, or than I have any 
right to tell you now. But you will be my 
friend and when I return ” 

Eugino’s hand touched Nona’s lightly 
and gently, but before she could answer, 
looking up she saw two figures approaching 


202 


With the Italian Army 


them. In a moment she discovered they 
were Sonya’s and Bianca’s. 

The young Italian girl was leading the 
way down the same path which Eugino had 
taken through the garden. 

‘‘I am sorry, Eugino,” Sonya began half 
apologetically, ‘‘but it is growing later than 
you and Nona can realize. And you know 
Nona was tired when she came in and must 
be back at the hospital early in the morn- 
ing. But why have I never seen this 
beautiful part of the garden until tonight.^ 
Bianca, you might have showed it to me 
before.” 

Then, as Eugino and Nona had both 
risen, Sonya put her arm about Nona’s 
shoulder, in a kind of protecting fashion. 

Then Sonya, with Nona of necessity 
beside her, started back toward the villa, 
leaving Eugino and Bianca to follow. 

The young man would not come in 
again. He preferred saying good-night out 
on the piazza. 

And Nona was always to remember him 
as he said good-bye — not to her — ^but to 
Sonya. 


Uncertainty 


203 


Lifting Sonya’s hand he bent his head 
and kissed it and then said: 

‘‘To Italy and her Allies and to Peace!” 

Then the next moment he had gone. 

Yet Nona imagined, perhaps foolishly, 
that Eugino’s final farewell had been the 
look he gave her, just as he turned to go 
away. 

The following day he returned to the 
Italian front. 


CHAPTER XV 


Whispers in the Air 

B ut within a short time Nona Davis 
also returned to her regular work at 
the hospital in Florence. 

Having entirely recovered her usual 
strength and nerve, she felt that she no 
longer deserved even a half holiday. 

But, in order to make up for the time she 
had lost, Nona now went very seldom to 
the Villa Felice, hearing from Sonya more 
often by letter, but scarcely ever seeing her. 

Nevertheless, Nona managed now and 
then to find opportunity to think of Eugino 
Zoli. She was a little annoyed to find how 
frequently she did think of him in the 
pauses from the more strenuous moments 
of her nursing, and during moments before 
she dropped wearily to sleep at night. 

Twice she received notes from him, but 
with nothing in them of importance. The 
young officer merely wrote that he hoped 

( 204 ) 


Whispers in the Air 


205 


Nona was well and not wearing herself out 
with too much work. He also said that 
preparations were going on even more bril- 
liantly and that the late summer drive 
would be an even greater success than the 
spring attack near the Gulf of Trieste. Of 
himself Eugino made no mention except 
to say he was busy and hopeful of many 
things. 

However, whether he intended it or not, 
there was even a tantalizing quality within 
Eugino’s short letters. Nor could one tell 
whether he were speaking of his beloved 
country, or of more personal desires in his 
hoping for many things?” 

Once Sonya also received a letter from 
him and afterwards wrote Nona of it. 

“The charming Eugino has written me 
— ^he of the beautiful manners and the sus- 
ceptible Italian heart. I believe I have 
more faith in him as a soldier than as a 
suitor, and have ^n idea, Nona mine, that 
we will hear great things of Eugino Zoli 
before the war is over. 

“Nevertheless Bianca and I miss him 
very much and talk of him daily. I have 


206 


With the Italian Army 


sometimes thought the little Italian girl 
cares more for her foster brother than either 
of them can know. And I believe it best 
if they never make the discovery. Bianca 
is with me constantly these days and I 
should be lonely without her. For, 
although Nannina is the most faithful of 
servants with regard to her work, she has 
strange habits of disappearing, usually at 
night, and remaining away, until I really 
don’t know when she comes in, as I must 
be asleep when she finally returns. 

‘‘However, Nona, I have no lack of vis- 
itors. Eugino’s friends are faithful, if 
Eugino has gone. My tea parties con- 
tinue almost every afternoon without my 
volition. The Signors appear and tea 
must follow. Yet we do nothing but talk 
war, war, war! It seems to me the Italians 
are franker than most soldiers, although 
they had once the reputation for being a 
secretive nation. But I think I could 
almost write out the plan of the approach- 
ing campaign, unless my guests are talking 
of matters that they do not really under- 
stand. 


Whispers in the Air 


207 


‘‘All love and hoping each day to see you, 

“Sonya.’’ 

What was there of so particularly disturb- 
ing a character in Sonya’s letter? 

Yet, somehow, nearly every line of it 
vaguely worried Nona. 

First she wondered if there could be 
a deeper friendship between Eugino and 
Bianca than she had appreciated? She 
had always believed Bianca to be less a 
child — to have deeper purposes and plans 
than most people recognized? Nona put 
this thought away from her. Eugino had 
certainly treated Bianca with an entirely 
careless affection. Although aware that 
marriages were still occasionally arranged 
by parents in Italy, Nona could not believe 
it possible that Eugino’s mother would 
wish him to marry the daughter of her 
servant, no matter how unusual the grl 
might be. 

Then, more sensibly, Nona decided that 
the matter was not her affair. Whatever 
her own dreams, she must realize that, so 
far, they had no foundation in reality. 

But the latter part of Sonya’s letter. 


208 


With the Italian Army 


Nona believed, gave her real cause for 
anxiety. 

She might be foolish and imaginative, of 
course, but it again struck her as extremely 
unwise that so much talk of the war in 
Italy be allowed to go on at Sonya’s house. 
Sonya was a stranger in Italy and had 
preferred to keep her own somewhat ad- 
venturous career as a Russian pacifist, and 
a sometimes Russian revolutionist, a secret 
to their new Italian acquaintance. 

There was no reason for this, except that 
Sonya desired not to attract comment or 
attention, now that Russia had shaken off 
her old bonds and was finding herself in 
her own way. But, if for any reason Sonya 
should come under suspicion and her career 
be investigated, why the story of her past 
life would not be simple and might create 
complications. 

Simply because Sonya was a gracious, 
charming woman, her Italian guests had 
no right to take so much for granted. 

However, it seemed incredible that there 
could be anyone near Sonya at the present 
time who was not entirely trustworthy. 


Whispers in the Air 


209 


But Nona’s was a more thoughtful 
than impetuous nature, and having passed 
through so many odd experiences since the 
beginning of her Red Cross nursing in 
Europe, she saw no sense in taking unneces- 
sary risks. 

For a few moments Nona thought of 
writing Sonya and suggesting that she give 
up her tea parties. Then she wondered if 
Sonya would take her with sufficient seri- 
ousness and concluded to wait until she 
next saw her. 

Then a sudden added pressure of work 
coming just at this time, Nona temporarily 
allowed her intention to pass from her 
mind. 

She had not forgotten, however, and 
subconsciously the thought was still with 
her. 

Only for the time being she must give 
her more active attention to something else. 

Then, one morning Dr. Latham unex- 
pectedly asked her if she would go with 
him that same afternoon to the Cascini — 
the public gardens at the edge of Florence. 

The doctor confessed that he had some- 


14 


210 


With the Italian Army 


thing special he wished to say and had 
therefore chosen a place where he hoped 
they might be alone. 

For a moment after his invitation Nona 
was curious. The good doctor had looked 
grave. What secret could he possibly have 
to impart? Nona could not guess, having 
seen but little of him recently, owing to the 
pressure of hospital work upon them both. 

Indeed, after her first moment of curi- 
osity, Nona had no further time for reflec- 
tion until the hour arrived for her usual 
afternoon rest. And, even then, she was 
in perfectly good spirits and looking for- 
ward to her excursion. 

As is often the case when the moment of 
approaching disaster is actually reached, 
one has forgotten the premonitions which 
have oftentimes warned us. 

But Dr. Latham was like his ordinary 
self all the way out to the gardens. 

He and Nona rode a part of the way on 
the tram, known in Florence by the so 
much more imposing name — the circum 
vallazione. Afterwards they walked along 
the Lungarno and past the beautiful Cor- 


Whispers in the Air 


211 


sini palace until they arrived at an espe- 
cially beautiful group of ilex trees near the 
edge of the river. 

It was Nona who then reminded her 
companion : 

‘‘Look here, Dr. Latham, you had some- 
thing or other you said you wished to tell 
me. Please don’t forget, or our time will 
have slipped by and we must both be back 
at work.” 

The doctor frowned. 

“I had not forgotten. I was trying to 
decide just what to say. For I may have 
something very important to tell you and 
I may have something very foolish, and 
for the life of me. Miss Nona, I can’t 
decide. That is why I want to put the 
matter up to you. I may be a stupid old 
gossip. But if I am, there is no harm 
done.” 

The two friends continued to walk on 
slowly, Nona rather wishing the doctor 
would come to the point. 

“It seems to me people talk a great deal 
in this city of Florence, but perhaps not 
more than in other places. I am not much 


212 


With the Italian Army 


accustomed to society. Neither am I so 
very old, you know,” Dr. Latham an- 
nounced, as if Nona had just accused him 
of being. ^‘But I have devoted most of 
my time to learning to be — ^well, just a 
half-way good doctor. But recently, since 
you seem to have had other things to do. 
Miss Nona, rather than amuse me, why I 
have been gadding about a good deal. I 
keep meeting old American acquaintances 
who had disappeared from my life to find 
they have tucked themselves away here in 
Florence. And, as IVe told you. I’ve 
heard a lot of talk. But the talk I have 
not enjoyed hearing is about that good- 
looking friend of yours. I never have 
made up my mind, you know, whether I 
like her. But I certainly don’t want to 
see her come to grief, for your sake, if for 
no other reason,” and insensibly Dr. Lat- 
ham’s voice altered in tone. 

But Nona paid no attention to this. 

‘^You mean Sonya, of course,” she re- 
turned quickly, her own premonition of 
trouble returning. 

“Yes, I mean Sonya. People in Flor- 


Whispers in the Air 


213 


ence are saying that she is too popular and 
that too little is known of her. They also 
say that news of some of the conversations 
that have been taking place at the Villa 
Felice is spreading to other sources than 
those where it belongs. Of course it is 
scarcely Madame Sonya’s fault if her 
Italian guests are too outspoken. I have 
said things myself out there which perhaps 
had better have been left unsaid. Just the 
same, if the gossip becomes serious, and 
if any important information be delivered 
to an untrustworthy person there might be 
the devil to pay. Italy has never been 
able to rid herself altogether of her Ger- 
man inhabitants, I hear, she was so over- 
stocked with them when this war broke 
out. Not that I should worry if I were 
you. Miss Nona. Personally, I don’t think 
there is a thing in the world to worry over 
so far. But I think I’d tell your friend 
that she had best be a little more careful 
of the conversation of her guests.” 

‘‘I’ll go out there tomorrow,” Nona 
returned, her voice shaking a little, although 
determined not to let Dr. Latham know 
how much his warning had frightened her. 


214 


With the Italian Army 


If she had not thought the same thing 
herself before this afternoon, she would 
perhaps have taken more calmly the fact 
that Sonya was exciting gossip. Sonya 
should have known better. However, she 
seemed to be one of the persons who cannot 
pass through life quietly. Try as she might, 
she seemed ever the center of a drama. 


CHAPTER XVI 


Sonya^s Knight 

S ONYA was waiting in the drawing- 
room at the villa for her guest. This 
was the hour when she and Carlo 
worked together at the piano. 

He seemed to be accomplishing wonder- 
ful results. Sonya insisted that she would 
not long be sufficiently well educated in 
music to teach him, but this, of course, 
Carlo Insisted was ridiculous. He was not 
in reality skilled in technic, only his feeling 
for music was so strong that the music 
came as if he were only a medium through 
which it passed into outer harmony. 

But this morning he was not on time and 
Sonya wandered about the room a little 
impatiently. 

Carlo’s own apartment was only a short 
distance down the hall. But she would not 
send for him, as something of importance 
must be delaying him. 

( 215 ) 


216 


With the Italian Army 


However, in another five minutes Carlo 
appeared. 

He was able to walk and, except that he 
was thin and white, no longer behaved as 
an invalid. 

However, this morning when she caught 
sight of his face, Sonya was startled. 

‘‘What is it. Carlo What has occur- 
red.^” she demanded immediately. “You 
look a great deal worse than you did an 
hour ago at breakfast. Nothing has hap- 
pened — no one has been here to disturb 
you. I must send into Florence for the 
doctor.” 

Sonya was more than usually excited. 
But, then, she had grown fond of her 
visitor. 

Carlo caught hold both of her hands. 

“Nothing has happened and nothing is 
the matter — dear lady — at least nothing 
that should disturb you. But just now in 
my room, all alone, I tried very softly — to 
sing.” Carlo only rarely hesitated with 
his words in speaking now. “At first the 
sound was very thick, very harsh, then a 
few notes came. Oh, they were nothing 
any one else could endure. But to me ” 


Sonya’s Knight 


217 


Suddenly the Italian boy’s eyes filled 
with tears, and Sonya’s did also. 

‘‘It cannot mean anything of course, dear 
lady; but some day perhaps just to myself 
— or to you — I may yet be able to sing a 
little.” 

“You may be able to do a great deal 
more. Carlo. But please let us not talk 
about it now. Neither you nor I can quite 
bear it. Sit down for a moment, won’t 
you? I am going to ask Nannina to bring 
us both some coffee before we begin to 
work. I need it, Carlo, after your news, 
even if you do not.” 

And Sonya went away, giving Carlo time 
to recover himself. For she understood 
the boy’s temperament — knew how emo- 
tional he was — ^how quick to change from 
gayety to depression. But this was a part 
of his artist inheritance. 

When she returned he was sitting at the 
piano, letting his long fingers wander idly 
over the keys; not trying to sing, of course, 
but playing, the Neapolitan Boat Song, 
which was one of the songs he had cared 
most to sing before his disaster. 


218 


With the Italian Army 


Then, after the coffee, for an hour he 
and Sonya worked at the piano together. 

At the end of that time they were both 
surprised to hear the noise of footsteps out- 
side on the piazza. They had heard no 
one approach. 

Sonya went over to the window. 

“It is two strange men. Carlo. Stay 
here with me, won’t you, until we find out 
what they wish ? ” 

Instinctively Sonya must have felt that 
the men had come upon some errand not 
agreeable. 

Soon after Nannina opened the front 
door and brought them to the drawing- 
room and then promptly disappeared. 

However, as they were Italians, their 
manners were properly polite. 

“We desire to see you upon a disagree- 
able business. Signora,” one of them began. 
He spoke careful English, while his com- 
panion apparently knew only a limited 
number of English words. 

“Very well,” Sonya returned. She was 
puzzled but not frightened. 

Evidently a difficulty of some kind had 


Sonya’s Knight 


219 


arisen in which she was concerned. Some 
one whom she knew must be involved. 

For Sonya believed that she had been 
leading too quiet a life to be in touch other- 
wise with any matter of importance. There- 
fore, her chief interest at present was to 
find out the real reason for the men’s 
errand as quickly as possible. 

It was not necessary for the newcomers 
to explain to Sonya that they were Italian 
officials in the dress of civilians. She had 
recognized this as soon as they entered the 
drawing room. Her experiences in Russia 
had given her a peculiar knowledge which 
most men and women do not have. 

Carlo, for instance, at the beginning of 
Sonya’s conversation with the two Italians, 
w^s entirely in the dark. They appeared 
to him as ordinary men upon some ordinary 
errand. It was even possible that they 
might be salesmen who had entered the 
house under a pretense of mystery in order 
to introduce themselves more successfully 
and later on their wares. 

However, the first statement and the 
way in which Sonya responded stirred 
Carlo to a sense of something unusual. 


220 


With the Italian Army 


Then immediately something was aroused 
in him which he had never felt before in 
his life — a protective instinct. For Sonya 
might regard herself as Carlo’s mother, but 
he did not think of her in this light. 

“Go on, please; explain just why you 
have come to speak to me and exactly 
what your errand means,” Sonya went on 
with an extraordinary self-possession which 
surprised her small audience. ^‘You see, 
I understand you have come upon official 
business. In a time like this I cannot but 
presume it has some connection with the 
war. Yet, as I am a stranger in Italy and 
have been living so quietly out here, I 
cannot imagine how I can have any con- 
nection with any circumstance which would 
interest you.” 

If Sonya spoke with perfect self-com- 
posure she really felt more uneasiness than 
she confessed. But not for herself. In 
truth, she had not the faintest idea that 
she could be involved in any difficulty, 
save as an outsider. Nevertheless she was 
uneasy, endeavoring to guess what possible 
human being whom she knew in Italy 


Sonya’s Knight 


221 


could have become involved in trouble 
which had any connection with her. 

‘‘We will do as you ask, Signora, and 
not waste time, since our charge is serious,” 
the Italian answered, continuing to speak 
courteously. “It has come to our know- 
ledge that information obtained at your 
home has been given to an individual living 
at present in Florence, who is under sus- 
picion of being here in the service of the 
German Government. The fact is the 
man has been arrested and most conclusive 
proof found. Without his knowledge he 
has been quietly watched for some time. 
Among his letters and papers, written in 
a childish, unformed hand, was knowledge 
secured through conversations held at your 
house. ' There is no doubt of this, for no 
effort was made to disguise the fact. How- 
ever, there is doubt, Signora, that this 
information came from you, but since this 
is your home and there is some talk about 
the circumstances of your past life having 
been unusual, an investigation will have 
to be made. In the meantime ” 

Sonya had seated herself while the man 


222 


With the Italian Army 


was talking. At first her expression was 
one of entire amazement and then of grow- 
ing interest. 

‘‘What you tell me hardly seems possible 
to me,” she replied slowly, “but since you 
say you have positive evidence, it would be 
ridiculous for me to make an attempt to 
dispute it. But I think I am more puzzled 
than you can be. I have such a small 
household — only my housekeeper, an Italian 
woman, and her young daughter, and 
Signor Navara, who is here recovering from 
a wound. The other people who have 
come to my villa have simply been guests 
who have stayed a short time and gone 
away. Also they have been Italians to 
whom the cause of Italy is everything. 
Certainly it is but natural that you should 
prefer to suspect me. I presume you wish 
me to go into Florence with you. I will 
go with pleasure. I assure you that next 
to your own government, I am anxious to 
have this mystery explained.” 

At this Sonya rose from her chair, only 
to have Carlo get up at the same time. 

“Wait a minute, please,” he said with 
unexpected dignity and forcefulness. 


Sonya’s Knight 


223 


He then turned to the two Italians. 

“ I too appreciate and am equally puzzled 
by what you have just told us. And as I 
also have been living here at the Villa 
Felice at the time, when a spy has evidently 
been among us, you can understand that 
I want to find out who the Individual was. 
But the thing I am not prepared to agree 
to is that you prefer to have your first 
suspicion center upon Signora Valesky. 
There is no possible reason for this. It 
expresses a lack of courtesy to a guest in 
your country and to one of your own Allies. 
The Signora is a Russian, who has been 
living in the United States only for a year 
or more before coming to Italy. She must 
not be subjected to indignity. I will not 
permit it. I am an Italian soldier and 
have come from the United States to fight 
for the Italian cause. It is I who will go 
with you into Florence instead of the 
Signora. When the time comes for the 
actual trial I am sure she will be glad then 
to put herself at your disposal and to give 
you whatever aid she can. In the mean- 
time, if you will allow me a few moments — ” 


224 


With the Italian Army 


Carlo moved toward the door and for an 
Instant Sonya watched him, overwhelmed 
by surprise. What had become of his 
usual boyishness, of his lack of self-control.^ 
He now spoke like a man and one with 
authority, when a short time before he had 
come to her with tears in his eyes asking 
for her sympathy, because he believed he 
had the right to a little hope for his own 
future. 

And evidently Carlo had impressed the 
two Italian officials as well. 

The one who understood English an- 
swered him with respect. 

understand your point of view. Sig- 
nor, and am sorry not to be able to agree 
with it. But we have our orders. The 
Signora Is to come into Florence, and no 
one else can take her place. I can assure 
you that she will be treated with entire 
respect and the whole affair kept as quiet 
as possible. When the time of the actual 
trial comes, of course it may be difficult 
then to keep matters as quiet as we could 
wish. The man who is involved, to whom 
valuable information has been given from 


Sonya’s Knight 


225 


more than one source, is unfortunately 
married to a prominent Italian woman and 
has used her name as a shelter for a long 
time. If you will make your preparations, 
Signora ’’ 

Sonya moved over toward Carlo. 

‘‘You are very kind, Carlo mio,” she 
whispered quietly under her breath, speak- 
ing to him as a boy again. “But please 
don’t make any fuss. I shall probably not 
have to stay away more than a few days 
and I am anxious to discover what all this 
means. Take care of things here for me 
and try to think who can have been the 
informant. As for me, I am perfectly 
hopeless. I have not the faintest idea.” 

Carlo took hold of Sonya’s arm almost 
roughly. 

“You shall not go; I will not permit it, 
after all you have done for me,” he choked 
boyishly. But Sonya noticed even at this 
trying moment that he spoke without any 
of his usual hesitation. 

“Don’t be absurd. Carlo. You know 
I hate scenes, and one faces the inevitable.” 

Then, without waiting for further argu- 


15 


226 


With the Italian Army 


ment, Sonya disappeared to her own apart- 
ment. Five minutes later she came back, 
ready to go into Florence. 

But this time Bianca was with her, 
clinging to her skirts and looking more dis- 
tressed than any one had ever seen Bianca, 
except at the time of the death of her 
great friend, the Donna Elizabetta. 

That afternoon, when Nona appeared at 
the Villa Felice feeling annoyed with Sonya 
over the whole ridiculously unnecessary 
situation, she, of course, found Sonya gone. 

But Carlo did his best to explain the 
situation. However, he looked so white 
and ill again that Nona was almost as 
much concerned for him as she was for 
Sonya. All his old difficulty in speaking 
appeared to have returned. 

‘‘But you must not worry so. Carlo,” 
Nona argued, using his first name as she 
had not done before, except in speaking of 
him with Sonya. “You see, it is pretty 
annoying and horrid for Sonya, of course. 
But the whole thing is sure to be explained 
in a few days and Sonya will take it sensibly. 
Afterwards people will be extremely apolo- 


Sonya’s Knight 


227 


getic to her. Of course it is disgusting that 
any of us here at this enchanting villa 
should have to be mixed up with spying 
and deceit. It seems perfectly incredible 
to me. But one appears unable to escape 
treachery.” 

Carlo shook his head mournfully. 

“Why, would — ^they not — suspect me.^ 
I could — ^for the time — have — pretended — 
to be — the traitor. But — now, if I — could 
— only find — some clue, I should — not be 
— in — such despair.” 

“Oh, cheer up. Carlo,” Nona replied 
almost indignantly, “don’t be so despon- 
dent. Let us talk over the whole situa- 
tion. Tell me if you have thought or 
noticed anything suspicious or peculiar 
about any one here at the villa at any time 
when I may have been away. Between us 
we ought to be able to make some worth- 
while discovery, or at least to get hold of 
some slight information. The world now- 
adays is filled with just such experiences.” 


CHAPTER XVII 


The Culprit 

N ona remained all night at the 
villa. But she was unable to 
sleep. 

As a matter of fact, she was more un- 
happy over the situation In which Sonya 
was at present placed than she was willing 
to confess to Carlo. 

It seemed absurd, too, that Sonya, who 
had come to Italy hoping only to be left 
alone and to enjoy a perfectly quiet and 
undisturbed time, should now be involved 
in what might become an extremely seri- 
ous business. 

But to Nona also it appeared impossible 
that there could have been any one at the 
Villa Felice capable of treachery. 

There can be only two reasons for be- 
trayal of a nation’s secrets in time of war — 
one Is the love of country, which makes one 
willing to betray any trust, take any per- 
( 228 ) 


The Culprit 


229 


sonal risk for the sake of aiding one’s own 
land. The other is, of course, a love of 
money. There have been spies who have 
been bought and paid for as long as modern 
war has existed. 

But the guests at Sonya’s had all been 
Italians, ardent and devoted to Italy’s ser- 
vice. If they had been too outspoken 
this was only because of their too great 
enthusiasm. It was barely possible that 
afterwards one of them might have said 
too much of what he had heard at Sonya’s 
without appreciating the seriousness of 
what he was doing. But Carlo had re- 
ported that actual papers had been found 
with conversations, which had taken place 
at the Villa Felice, written out in detail. 

Nona did not believe that this informa- 
tion was really so important in itself. The 
important point was that some one had 
been among them who was undoubtedly 
in the service of the enemy. 

Nona wished there was some one whose 
advice she might ask in the present diffi- 
culty. If only Eugino Zoli were in Flor- 
ence! He was Sonya’s friend and her own. 


230 


With the Italian Army 


Carlo was almost as much a stranger in 
Italy as she was and Dr. Latham was, of 
course, out of the question. 

Then Nona probably fell asleep for a 
short time. 

She was occupying her own bed-room — 
the one adjoining Sonya’s. 

She was awakened by hearing a faint 
noise not far from her own door. 

Her door had been accidentally left 
partly ajar, so, getting up, Nona quietly 
walked to the door and peeped out. 

She saw only Bianca creeping timidly 
along the hall and then down the stairs at 
the back of the house. She had on a little 
wrapper too short for her and looked more 
childish than ever. 

For a moment Nona wondered what in 
the world she could be doing stealing about 
the house at such an hour of the night. 
Then she realized that Bianca must be 
going to find her mother. 

Nannina slept on the lower fioor of the 
villa in a room which had been built upon 
the house for her use. 

Naturally Bianca was worried by the 


The Culprit 


231 


events of the day. Nona had noticed how 
white and unhappy she had appeared, but 
had talked to her very little during the 
afternoon. 

But evidently Bianca had some affection 
for her mother and was seeking her now 
for consolation. 

Since Nona was convinced of this it was 
curious that she should have instantly 
slipped on her dressing gown and prepared 
to follow Bianca. Yet she did this without 
making a sound that could betray her 
presence to the other girl. 

As soon as she reached it, Bianca entered 
her mother’s room without knocking; but 
she did not close the door tightly after- 
wards. 

Outside Nona stood and waited. After 
all, she had a reason which she considered 
justified her in trying to hear what Bianca 
could have to say to her mother at this 
hour of the night. Bianca’s seeking Nan- 
nina at this time might not be due entirely 
to the fact that she wished to be comforted. 

Yet the first thing Nona overheard was 
Bianca crying softly. 


232 


With the Italian Army 


She did this — as she did most things — 
In a gentle, refined fashion, but revealing 
deeper emotion than Nona had believed 
her capable of feeling. 

Yet, instead of trying to console her 
daughter for whatever was troubling her, 
Nannina said something to her in response 
which sounded angry and harsh. 

‘‘But I didn’t know that the Signora 
would have to suffer — you should have told 
me,” Bianca answered with more courage 
than she usually showed to her mother. 
“ She' has been most kind to me and I am 
fond of her.” 

Bianca spoke quietly, but did not whisper, 
having no idea, of course, that any one 
could be listening. 

Nannina’ s tones were lower, but per- 
haps more from habit than from any other 
reason, as she too believed that she and 
Bianca were at present alone in the lower 
part of the house. However, whenever 
she had talked to her daughter in the past 
she had always spoken in low tones, seldom 
wishing any one to know what she was 
saying. 


The Culprit 


233 


‘^No; you did not know the Signora 
would suffer; but, then, neither did I,” 
Nannina returned, speaking a little louder 
so that Nona could half hear and half guess 
her words. ^‘But you knew we needed 
money and that you must have it. Pretty 
soon your Signora will be going away. Do 
you think other people will treat you as 
she has? Your Eugino and Paulo may be 
killed, or they may forget you. I can’t 
make any more money— Italian people are 
too poor even to pay what your Signora 
does. Then what is to become of you?” 

‘‘I could work,” Bianca returned slowly. 

Nannina laughed, but her laugh did not 
express pleasure. 

‘‘You work, Bianca? You do not belong 
to the kind of people who know how to 
work. Your father didn’t know how before 
you.” 

“My father?” Bianca questioned. 

And for the first time Nona felt ashamed 
of her own eavesdropping. 

If Bianca and her mother were to talk 
of their intimate personal affairs, certainly 
she was doing wrong to listen. And yet 


234 


With the Italian Army 


she had already heard enough to make, 
what had not been more than a vague idea 
at the beginning now develop into a real 
suspicion. 

“You have scarcely ever mentioned my 
father to me before. I think you ought to 
tell me who he was and why you have 
chosen to bring me up so differently from 
other girls in my position.” 

Bianca spoke timidly, as if she were 
fearful both of her mother and of what her 
mother might reply. 

There was no answer for a moment. 

“Oh, well; I suppose you might as well 
be told,” Nannina answered sullenly, “else 
you’ll be imagining more about yourself 
than is true. Your father was a kind of 
cousin of the Donna Elizabetta — not a 
very close cousin — ^but she had been fonder 
of him as a girl than her family liked. You 
see, he was poor and was regarded as of no 
account in the United States. Well, after 
the Donna Elizabetta had been married 
a little while, he sailed over to Italy and 
one day came to see her. I had just come 
here to work. Oh, I wasn’t so bad looking 


The Culprit 


235 


then, Bianca, so you need not stare, 
although I wasn’t a bit like your pink and 
white prettiness. I was tall and dark and 
strong. It is your father you look like. 
He just came up to my shoulder. But he 
had lovely fair hair and skin and charming 
manners like the Signor Eugino whom you 
like so much. And he was nice to me — 
he was nice to everybody — also like the 
young Signor. The Donna Elizabetta did 
not know what was going on behind her 
back of course, but after a little while we 
were married. We did not tell anybody and 
I went on working here. Your father did 
not have any money, and he continued 
staying at the Villa Felice because he had 
no other place to go. The Donna Eliza- 
betta’s husband was not too pleased. So 
you see we were afraid to tell, for fear your 
father would have no home, and he was 
accustomed to being comfortable^and cared 
for by some one.” 

Nannina was not speaking with any 
harshness or condemnation, but with a 
kind of pride and tenderness. 

Outside her door, Nona Davis felt her 


236 


With the Italian Army 


cheeks flaming. There was no doubt she 
had not the right to hear Nannina’s con- 
fession; yet she made no move toward 
going away. 

‘‘Well, after a while we had to tell and 
then your father was angry and sorry he 
had ever married me. His family was 
furious. They had done a little for him 
now and then — given him the money to 
come abroad — ^but they wrote him then that 
he would have to go to work and support 
his peasant wife. He had never supported 
himself. 

‘‘The Donna Elizabetta was angry, too, 
at first — more so than any one. But she 
was very kind and she also cared a great 
deal for your father, Bianca.” 

One could scarcely have guessed it was 
the Italian peasant woman who was speak- 
ing. Her voice was deep and soft, and 
had the musical quality of the Italian 
voice, which before had been lacking in 
Nannina’s. 

“So there was nothing for your father 
to do but try to find work. He did try for 
a little while and the Donna Elizabetta 


The Culprit 


237 


took care of me. Then you were born. 
He had no money to come back to us at 
that time, as he had gone away to another 
city, where the Donna Elizabetta's husband 
had gotten him work. But it was too hard 
for him and after a while the people he 
was living with sent for me. He was ill 
and I brought him back home. The Donna 
Elizabetta and I took care of him in a little 
house she had rented for us. But he had 
taken cold and then gone on working too 
long afterwards; so, after a little time, he 
died. You see, everybody can’t work, 
Bianca mia, although the world believes 
they can. But when he died your father 
made me promise that you were to be 
brought up as his daughter should be. 
Once or twice he said he was sorry he had 
given you a peasant mother, but that he 
cared for me because I was always good 
to him. So I have tried to be good to you, 
Bianca, although I have not tried to make 
you love me. I have not wished you to 
think about me too much, because I knew 
you, too, would be ashamed. 

‘T am sorry about the Signora, because 


238 


With the Italian Army 


she has been good to you and you care for 
her. It is natural, Bianca, that you should 
feel close to some one. It is not your fault 
that you do not love me. You cannot 
help it. But I didn’t know that what I 
have been doing would ever be found out. 
There was no other way I could get enough 
money for you. I have thought lately, 
maybe if there was money the Signora 
might take you to the United States with 
her when she goes and put you into a school 
there. But if I had dreamed we would be 
found out, do you think I would have let 
you help me? I used to try to stay with 
the Signora’s guests as long as I could to 
find out what was being said. But I could 
not always manage, so I began letting you 
repeat to me what you heard and then 
when I was too stupid to remember I let 
you write it down. Now, Bianca, mia, 
can’t you see, if we are found out — if they 
discover I have been selling Italy’s secrets 
— it is you who must suffer also. Oh, I 
ought to have known better. I ought to 
have kept you out of this.” 

‘‘Yes, Nannina,” Bianca answered, her 


The Culprit 


239 


voice shaking. ‘‘I am stupid, too, or I 
might have guessed I would be endangered. 
But I have always been stupid.” 

Forgetting for an instant that she was 
in hiding, Nona actually gasped. But not 
at Nannina’s treachery. As soon as Nan- 
nina and Bianca began their conversation 
she had anticipated something of what 
Nannina had just confessed. 

Wicked and unforgivable it was that 
Nannina had betrayed her country for 
money in order to bestow it upon her 
daughter! But at the instant it seemed 
almost worse to Nona Davis, that Bianca 
could accept her mother’s complete sacri- 
fice of herself in the spirit in which evi- 
dently she did accept it. Even now her 
thought was not for her mother but wholly 
for herself. 

Then Nona, recalling the story which 
Nannina had just told, remembering the 
utter and supreme selfishness of the man 
who had been Nannina’s husband and was 
Bianca’s father, wondered if this did not 
explain Bianca’s nature? 

But there was no more reason why she 


240 


With the Italian Army 


should linger. Already Nannina had told 
more than she had dreamed of hearing. 

What had taken place was self-evident. 
Between them Nannina and Bianca had sold 
information, which they overheard at 
Sonya’s to a secret agent of the German 
Government. 

What Nona did not know at this moment 
was what she must do with the information 
she had overheard. 

However, she would go to Sonya the 
next day and confide in her. Then between 
them they must decide what was best 


CHAPTER XVIII 


Nannina Solves the Problem 


O N the following day Nona was per- 
mitted to see Sonya. 

Sonya was being made as com- 
fortable as possible, only there was to be 
no possibility of her getting away from 
Florence until after the trial of the man 
whom she was suspected of having supplied 
with dangerous information. 

At Nona’s revelation Sonya was more 
surprised than Nona had been upon over- 
hearing it. But then Sonya had always 
regarded Nannina and Bianca as far more 
simple and ordinary persons than Nona 
had ever thought them. Naturally she 
had considered their relation to each other 
unusual and not pleasant; but, as a matter 
of fact, Sonya had really troubled herself 
very little concerning it. 

Yet now the situation which Nona 
brought before her was amazingly difficult 
to solve. 


16 


( 241 ) 


242 


With the Italian Army 


There was no question that Nannina had 
been a traitor to Italy. If her information 
to the enemy was not important, this was 
because Sonya’s guests had never betrayed 
any news of great value. But Nannina had 
not known this. She had been a traitor 
in intention. 

However, even while realizing the seri- 
ousness of this, neither Sonya nor Nona 
wished to face the penalty Nannina must 
pay. Even at best she would suffer life 
imprisonment. And she was only an 
ignorant, peasant woman with an entirely 
foolish, but utterly unselfish devotion to 
her child. 

Besides, there was Bianca! How far 
would she be held responsible? 

After all, she was a delicate, fragile 
young girl, brought up with altogether 
wrong ideas and principles. Certainly she 
had not realized what she was taking part 
in. Fear would have withheld Bianca had 
she understood, even if no better motive 
had restrained her. And Sonya had an 
affection for Bianca and faith in her. 
Better than Nona she understood how 


Nannina Solves the Problem 243 


human beings may be made up of good and 
evil. Bianca’s selfishness toward her 
mother was appalling. But some day some 
one else might wake in her a finer quality; 
when, through love, she would comprehend 
her own selfishness. 

Nona and Sonya were sitting close beside 
each other while they had their talk. 
Finally Nona reached over and took her 
friend’s hand. 

“ Sonya, I am discussing this matter 
with you, but you must understand I have 
no idea of your being made a victim in 
order to protect the persons who are really 
guilty. Whatever you decide, I have 
already decided to tell what I overheard to 
the proper authorities and then leave it to 
them to prove whether I am mistaken.” 

Sonya frowned slightly over the serious- 
ness of the situation and then smiled. 

‘‘Nona, you are very sweet to think I 
am such an altruist. But I have no idea 
of making a martyr of myself in order to 
shield Nannina. For one thing, she de- 
serves to be punished. She must be made 
to realize the crime she has committed. 


244 


With the Italian Army 


Don’t think I am a sentimentalist who does 
not believe in a measure of retribution. 
What worries me is the extent to which 
Nannina must pay, and Bianca as well. 
All of Nannina’s life probably, and the best 
of Bianca’s. These are war times which do 
not inspire people to be lenient and, least 
of all, to the sin of treachery. Will you 
give me just a night more, Nona dear, to 
think this situation over? Come to see 
me again tomorrow and promise me to say 
nothing until then. I don’t think there 
can be any possible harm in our delay, as 
Nannina has no idea she is suspected. You 
have not said anything to Carlo.” 

Nona shook her head. 

‘‘If I had, do you suppose he would have 
waited an instant before coming into 
Florence to see that you were exonerated? 
No; he is moping about the villa as if there 
were nothing left in life for him.” 

However, although Nona would not give 
her consent at first to Sonya’s suggestion 
of delay, she did finally agree. 

Then her work at the hospital next day 
kept her so busy that it w^as impossible for 
her to see Sonya. 


Nannina Solves the Problem 245 


But the following morning, to her amaze- 
ment, Sonya herself drove up to the hos- 
pital and asked for her. 

‘‘You must come to the villa with me 
for a few hours, Nona dear. Arrange 
things in some fashion — say your presence 
is imperative. I have something of the 
greatest importance to tell you.” 

Afterwards, on the way home, Sonya 
explained what had occurred. 

‘‘I waited for you all of yesterday, 
Nona, yet dreading in a way to see you. 
For I had made up my mind, of course, 
that there was nothing for us to do but to 
tell the truth to the Italian authorities. 
For Nannina might go on with her treachery 
and really become a menace to the country 
in which we are trusted guests as well as 
Allies. Well, you did not come, but about 
dusk, some one else did. It was the man 
who had been out to the villa and who had 
actually arrested me, although I know the 
Italians would use some more courteous 
term, as things have turned out. 

“As soon as he came into my room I saw 
his manner had changed. He had been 


246 


With the Italian Army 


polite before, now he was apologetic. More- 
over, he held a letter in his hands, which 
had been opened. He gave it to me, how- 
ever, and I saw that my address was upon 
it in an ignorant handwriting. The letter, 
as you have guessed, was from Nannina. 
In it she confessed to me what she had 
been doing and told me she had gone away 
forever.’’ 

Until now Nona had not interrupted. 
She had been sitting, leaning a little for- 
ward in the old carriage in which she and 
Sonya were riding, intently listening. 

‘‘But, Sonya, I don’t understand,” she 
now argued. “I can’t see any sense in 
Nannina writing you. She did not know 
any one suspected her and she had nothing 
to gain by her confession.” 

“You are mistaken, Nona. Nannina is 
not so stupid as you think. You know 
there is only one person in the world for 
whom she cares — and that is Bianca, not 
herself. Remember, she did know that I 
had been arrested and that the authorities 
understood the information had been given 
by some one living in the Villa Felice. 


Nannina Solves the Problem 247 


When a closer investigation came, Nannina 
realized that she would in all probability 
be found out. But in her letter to me she 
says that she confessed in order to save 
me — and here is the important point. She 
asks me if I will look after Bianca and take 
her to the United States when I go. She 
insists that she will never be heard of 
again. And she not only sent me her con- 
fession, but wrote to the Italian authorities 
as well. They opened my letter to see if 
she told me the same story. But she had 
said a great deal more to them, explaining 
what she had done in greater detail, so 
there could be no doubt of her guilt, and 
of course not mentioning Bianca. 

Don’t you see, Nona, that in this way 
Nannina saves Bianca? If a trial had 
taken place Bianca must have been drawn 
into it. Now Nannina assumes the entire 
responsibility. Then, if, by chance, I have 
taken Bianca to the United States with me 
before Nannina is discovered, Bianca will 
escape even the disgrace.” 

‘^Poor old thing!” Nona exclaimed un- 
expectedly. Then she was silent a moment. 


248 


With the Italian Army 


‘‘But are you going to take Bianca back 
home with you, Sonya? Are you willing 
to accept such a charge, knowing how selfish 
Bianca is? You know she even tells little 
lies to save herself, or to secure what she 
happens to want. I don’t see how you 
dare.” 

Sonya turned her face away. 

“I am not very enthusiastic, Nona, but 
I don’t see just what else there is to do 
with the child. There is a chance, of 
course, that Nannina may be arrested at 
any moment; she had only eighteen hours 
in which to disappear — perhaps not so 
long. In that case we cannot tell what 
may happen. But if she is not discovered 
— oh, well, I must talk over the child’s 
future with her foster brothers. From 
your story they are distant cousins as well 
and ought to be a little interested. Really 
I am intensely sorry for her. You were 
quite right in predicting, Nona, that I 
would not be able to hide myself from 
responsibilities. I somehow feel as if I 
were ‘The Old Woman Who Lived in the 
Shoe,’ only all my children are grown up.” 


Nannina Solves the Problem 249 


For the first time Nona smiled since the 
beginning of Sonya’s story. 

‘^Oh, I don’t think Carlo and I are willing 
to accept you in that position. But do 
you know, Sonya, I have been thinking 
lately that when the summer is over I want 
to go back to my own country. Since we 
have declared war I feel I ought to be. there 
to help, or at least have them send me 
back to France if I am needed there. Our 
own men are fighting in the trenches in 
France now. And, yet, somehow if Italy 
still needs me I don’t see how I can go.” 

They were in sight of the Villa Felice at 
this moment — the home which belonged to 
Eugino and Paulo Zoll. 

So, without Nona’s realizing it, Sonya 
looked closely at the younger girl. She 
believed she understood why there were 
moments when Nona longed to go home, 
for other reasons than to offer her services 
to her own country, and then at other times 
felt that nothing could make her break the 
tie that was now binding her to Italy. 

Nona was restless for something which 
at one moment she longed for and the 
next feared to possess. 


CHAPTER XIX 


The Sign of the Cross 

N ANNINA was not discovered. How 
‘or where she had disappeared no 
one knew. She had simply gone 
away from the villa, taking only a handful 
of clothes and saying nothing to any one. 
She had not so much as said good-bye to 
Bianca. Though mistaken and wrong as 
she was, yet the peasant woman had her 
own kind of heroism. 

As for Bianca, she had a talk about her 
mother with Sonya, but Sonya never be- 
trayed what the young girl confided to her. 

However, Bianca went about looking so 
pallid and frightened and so childish that 
even Nona pitied her. No one would ever 
appreciate just what she suffered concern- 
ing her mother. It was dreadful to think 
that at any moment her mother might be 
discovered and arrested. Yet, if she were 
not discovered, what had become of her? 

( 250 ) 


The Sign of the Cross 


251 


Then Blanca had no idea what her own 
future was to be, for Sonya had not decided 
what to do. She was waiting to see Bianca’s 
foster brothers — Eugino and Paulo Zoli — 
when they returned again to Florence. 
But when this would be it was impossible 
to guess. 

Sonya and Bianca both had written 
them of what had occurred and had received 
short letters in return. However, no men- 
tion was made of Bianca’s ever having had 
any previous knowledge of what Nannina 
was doing. Nevertheless, they both ap- 
peared too angry and too horrified over 
the behavior of their old servant to express 
any particular sympathy or concern for 
their foster sister. 

Nevertheless, on the outside things went 
on at the Villa Felice much as they had 
been doing. A new housekeeper was ob- 
tained and Bianca continued to live as if 
she were a member of the family. But 
she was evidently not happy. 

Hour after hour, sitting with her em- 
broidery or whatever plain sewing Sonya 
found for her to do, she used often to long 


252 


With the Italian Army 


to see her foster brothers. For now that 
her mother was gone and she knew her 
father to be dead, they were the only 
friends left of her former life. Who knows 
but perhaps Bianca was also disappointed 
at the story her mother had told of herself.^ 
Perhaps in those hours when she had been 
alone in her pretty room, dressed in dainty 
clothes and seeing her own fair appearance, 
Bianca had dreamed of a more romantic 
history. 

But, as the weeks went on and the fight- 
ing on the Italian front grew daily fiercer 
and more victorious for the Italian cause, 
Sonya became almost as anxious for an 
interview with one of Bianca's foster 
brothers as the young girl. For, although 
Nona had never referred again to return- 
ing to the United States, Sonya was becom- 
ing anxious to sail. 

She had not cared to go on entertaining 
her Italian acquaintances after her own 
unpleasant experience. And, although she 
had made no complaint, she had resented 
the suspicion entertained of her. 

Then Sonya also felt it best that Carlo 


The Sign of the Cross 


253 


Navara return to his own people. There 
were several reasons for this. For one 
thing, he was not going to be able to rejoin 
the Italian forces for some time, as the 
shock of his accident and its consequences 
had too severely shattered his nervous 
system. However, Sonya did not feel that 
he should go on staying at the villa with 
her indefinitely. For, in some way, their 
relation had changed. Carlo no longer 
seemed willing to have her treat him as an 
ill and rather spoiled boy. His attitude 
was far more that of a grown man and 
Sonya realized, although she did her best 
to disbelieve it, that Carlo was growing too 
fond of her. 

Perhaps this was not so unnatural as 
Sonya considered it. In spite of the fact 
that she was so much older, Sonya was a 
rarely beautiful woman, with a breeding 
and distinction which were new to Carlo. 
Then, for many months, she had been 
exquisitely his friend — had given him hope 
and courage and care. 

Carlo used even to sing a little these 
days to Sonya, when the two of them were 


254 


With the Italian Army 


alone. But his voice was no longer the 
perfect golden voice it had once been. So 
Sonya was also anxious that he return to 
the United States for more scientific treat- 
ment. Indeed, her interest was much 
more for Carlo than for herself, as she 
wished him not to suffer the disaster of 
thinking he cared for a woman more than 
ten years his age. Having had so much 
experience, she knew it was sometimes 
harder for a boy to recover from an emotion 
of this kind than most people realize. 

Then, one morning at the end of the 
summer Sonya came down-stairs to her 
breakfast room and found she was the first 
to arrive at the table, neither Carlo nor 
Bianca having appeared. 

The Italian newspaper was always laid 
at Sonya’s plate, as she liked to glance at 
the headlines before eating. She had 
learned to read Italian fairly fiuently. 

This morning the paper recorded another 
Italian victory. The Italians had beaten 
back fierce mass drives in the neighborhood 
of Udine and had taken several thousand 
Austrian prisoners. 


The Sign of the Cross 


255 


Sonya was reading this news, when it 
seemed to her that her eyes were impelled 
to turn from the account which was deeply 
interesting, to a smaller paragraph in the 
next column. 

The first few lines read: “Felled two 
air foes in one-minute fight. Then Captain 
Eugino Zoli, one of the most famous of 
Italian aviators, falls to his death. Has 
destroyed twenty-one German and Aus- 
trian machines.” 

For an instant it seemed to Sonya that 
she must have been mistaken in what she 
had read. Then a second time looking at 
the account she re-read more slowly: 

“What had happened to Captain Eugino 
Zoli was merely what was happening to 
brilliant and daring airmen the world over. 
Only because of his unusual record was 
the paper giving him special mention. 

“The night before enemy aircraft having 
made a raid on Udine, dropping bombs 
over the village, among other airmen Cap- 
tain Zoli had gone up in his airship to put 
them to flight and had succeeded in destroy- 
ing two machines in an incredibly short 


256 


With the Italian Army 


time. Then his own machine was struck 
by an anti-aircraft gun and started its 
headlong crash to the earth. 

^‘However, Captain Zoli was able so to 
direct it that he fell within the Italian 
lines. As a special distinction his body 
would be taken to his home near Florence. 
He was to be buried with military honors.’’ 

After this Sonya fully realized what new 
difficulties she had to face. 

There was of course Bianca, who cared 
more for Eugino Zoli than for any one in 
the world. She would be entering the 
room in a moment and must be told the 
news. 

Yet it was not of Blanca that Sonya was 
thinking most deeply at this time. Would 
Nona realize now how much she cared for 
Eugino Zoli? For Sonya had seen what 
Nona had fought against accepting, the 
fact of how greatly the young Italian officer 
interested and fascinated her. In Nona’s 
mind there was also the thought that when 
Eugino returned again from the front, he 
would say to her the things which before 
he had only implied. 


The Sign of the Cross 


257 


Well, Sonya understood that Eugino 
Zoli was the type of man for whom girls, 
and women always care, and who cares) 
for them only slightly in return. 

^ He was always gay and charming and 
good tempered, making agreeable, half 
loverlike speeches because circumstances 
inspired him. But all the while his own 
deeper feeling was for something else. 
Eugino Zoli’s great emotion was the great 
cause of Italy, and Sonya appreciated that 
he had given his life gladly in his country’s 
service. . He had died at his supreme 
moment. 

It is for women only perhaps that the 
moment of love is the supreme moment 
of life. 

Fortunately for Sonya, however, Bianca 
merely behaved like a little girl at the news 
of her foster brother’s death. She simply 
went to bed and was ill for two days. But 
then she had had so much to trouble her! 

Fortunately for Bianca in those days, 
Sonya told her that she would take her 
back to the United States when she left 
Italy. 


17 


258 


With the Italian Army 


Naturally Nona Davis received the news 
differently. At first she was shocked and 
grieved. Then, after a little, it was almost 
as if Nona had a strange sensation of per- 
sonal relief. For perhaps through Eugino’s 
death she may have been saved a more 
real sorrow. Well, she had promised 
Sonya in a light-hearted fashion not to 
learn to care for an Italian and now fate 
had arranged that she should keep her 
word. 

However, no one who attended Captain 
Zoli’s funeral could ever forget it. 

Paulo was given leave to bring him home. 

The little Italian cemetery, filled with 
cypress trees and roses and beautiful carved 
stones gray with age, was not far from the 
Villa Felice. 

But Eugino’s funeral was unlike others, 
since it was a funeral in the air. 

The day was brilliant and the sky blue 
with the romance that has colored all 
Italian history. 

Suddenly as the service was closing there 
was a queer, whirring noise which seemed 
to come from the clouds. 


The Sign of the Cross 


259 


Looking up in the sky, the spectators 
saw moving toward them, like a flock of 
migrating birds, more than a dozen air- 
planes. 

They had flown out from one of the avia- 
tion schools near Florence to do homage to 
one of Italy’s greatest airmen. 

Above the grave they hovered for a 
moment and then breaking into two divi- 
sions, the one intercepting the other diag- 
onally, they formed a giant cross. And at 
the same moment Italian roses, red and 
white, showering down from them, covered 
Eugino’s grave. 

Then one of the aviators, who had been 
a friend and comrade in the air with 
Eugino, volplaned near the earth and 
dropped a wreath of roses tied with Italy’s 
colors, which fluttered slowly to the 
ground. 

Late that night — it must have been 
nearly twelve o’clock, Nona — ^who was 
spending the night at the Villa Felice, 
slipped from her own room into Sonya’s. 

Sonya was in bed but not asleep and had 
a little night taper burning. 


260 


With the Italian Army 


Nona sat down on the bed beside her. 

She was glad of the semi-darkness and 
glad too of the lateness of the hour. You 
see, she was very tired from the strain of 
the afternoon, but there was something she 
felt it might be easier to say tonight than 
afterwards. 

Nona reached out and found her friend’s 
hand. 

“There is something, Sonya, I think you 
have understood, although we have never 
talked of it. It is all finished now and I am 
glad there is nothing I wish to forget. But 
I feel I want to go home to my own country, 
Sonya, if you are willing. For some time 
I have thought perhaps it was really my 
duty to be there, rather than here in Italy 
at this time. But you have known why 
I could not make up my mind to leave Italy.” 

“Yes, Nona, I have known,” Sonya 
answered quietly. 

Then, there in the darkness of the night 
in Italy, she recited the last verse of the 
Battle Hymn of the American Republic — 
the challenge to all men and women to the 
service of the right. 


The Sign of the Cross 


261 


*‘In the beauty of the lilies Christ was bom across 
the sea, 

With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you 
and me; 

As he died to make men holy, let us die to make 
men free. 

While God is marching on.” 




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